How to Gain a Kid Flash II
by BanannaSlapz517
Summary: Wally knew that, as the Flash, he might be expected to pick up his own KF one day. He just hadn't bargained for Bart Allen. Set roughly 10 years after Young Justice. AU Written S1.
1. Step 1

Dear Readers,

This story was originally published as a bunch of chapters in _Of Super Speed and Wally West, _a collection of one-shots. However, I decided to move it because 1) it's not a one-shot, and 2) it's really not about Wally as Kid Flash. I really felt like it just didn't belong - it wasn't the same story. That's why it moved.

However, I kept it in this fandom because it _is _still Earth 16 - or my version of Earth-16, at least. Roughly based on the comics. This takes place about 10 years or so after Young Justice as we know it. Wally is the Flash, Dick became Nightwing, etc.

This story so far has been beta-ed by Mahlia. Thanks so much to her. I don't own _Young Justice _or _DC Comics. _

**How To Gain A Kid Flash**

**Part II**

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><p><strong>Step 1: Become the Flash<strong>

_The Last Will and Testament of Bartholomew Allen  
><em>_As Intended for Wallace West_

_Hey, Kid._

Wally snarled at the piece of paper, crumpled it again, and threw it at the opposite wall as hard as he could. He clenched his eyes shut and fell back against the wall, hard, sinking lower and lower until his head was level with his knees. The part of his brain that processed thousands of thoughts per second was still going, reminding him that Dick was probably watching him from the security cameras he'd installed somewhere in the dorm. He didn't care. The only thing that mattered was him, and that piece of paper resting on the floor across the room. Blindly, he crawled over, picked it up, and smoothed it out again, like he had many times before.

_I don't mean kid in a bad way. I mean that you've been a great kid, the best I could ever ask for, and I always thought of you as mine._

For a will, it was strangely informal. In his head, he could hear Barry's voice just talking to him. That was probably because it wasn't the real will. Barry Allen's will had been perfectly normal. No, this was the Flash's will, if you could call it that, and the Flash would say whatever he cared to. He mentioned college money, referenced the house and Aunt Iris, and told him to mind his parents. Same old Flash.

_I'm leaving you the title of the Fastest Man Alive. Of course, it would default to you anyways, but it makes me feel better to think it as something I can pass on. I know you'll do great things with it._

The Fastest Man Alive. That phrase was haunting him at every turn. Nineteen. He was only nineteen. Barely old enough to be considered a man, let alone the fastest one…

alive.

_alive _

_alive… _

_And Wally, if you'll take it, I gladly wish to pass on the mantle of the Flash to you._

The Flash.

Wally West, the –

He couldn't even think it.

He wouldn't be the first one his age to pick up a new name. Roy had been Red Arrow for years, Connor had become C'nor when moving to Mars with M'gann, and Dick had been sulking around Bludhaven for a month now after his huge fight with Bruce as Nightwing, although nobody knew who the heck he was except Wally. So he wouldn't be the first kid hero to switch names.

He'd be the first (the only, actually) to take up somebody else's name. He should be used to it by now. He was always first. Went with being the…the fastest man alive.

_Just say it. _

The Flash.

_Say it again. _

The Flash.

_You. _

Wally West.

The Flash.

_I love you, Wally. Don't ever forget that._


	2. Step 2

A/N: For those of you who've seen it before, nothing new. For those of you who haven't - welcome, Aunt Iris!

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><p><strong>Step 2: Have Relatives Return from the Dead Expecting You to Be an Expert on All Things Super Speed<strong>

"Wally?" a voice asked cautiously. He whipped his head around, mouth already open to call somebody out on saying his name while he was in uniform, but he froze when he saw the person. No, no, it was just his imagination playing tricks on him.

Instead he forced his muscles to relax just a little bit, decided to take a leaf out of Batman's book deepen the Flash's voice a little. "M'am, I-"

She just furrowed her eyebrows a little bit and set her hands on her hips. "It is 2018, isn't it? Wally, it's me."

At this point his heart was pounding so hard – from what exactly, he couldn't tell you – that he decided to just take a chance, grab her by the arms, and ran her to the quietest middle of nowhere he could find. It turned out to be a pasture out in Nebraska.

"Look, m'am," he said, setting her down. For her credit, she didn't seem as tipsy as most people. As he waited for her to find her balance, he debated with himself, and then reached up to pull the cowl back as she already seemed to have his secret ID deduced already, and he just wasn't in the mood to play the Who-Me game today. "I don't know how-"

"Wally!" she gasped, went to throw her arms around him. Flash stiffened, prepared to move out of the way before she could even come close, but something stopped him. Sure, he'd fallen for the little old lady trick before, but this way different. The way she said his name, maybe…

So he allowed himself to be hugged by her for a second before zipping to about a foot away. She was staring at him with something close to amazement (which he was pretty used to) and he stared at her back. Her auburn-y hair was heavily streaked with gray and pulled back into a bun. "Look, I don't know how you found out my name," he repeated, letting his voice fall back into its normal octave, "but I feel it's only fair for you to return the favor. Who're you?"

She gave him a long look. She had dusky green eyes and a round face, the beginnings of wrinkles on the edges of her face. If Wally would have had to guess her age, he would have put her somewhere around sixty. "Wally, I…" she trailed off her voice seemed very fragile. "I'm…I'm from the future."

The future? "Oh," he said brightly. "That actually makes a lot of sense. You look really familiar. I know you, right? Do we …" His brain froze. No way, it wasn't…_her… _"Aunt Iris?" he blurted out before he could think better of it.

She gave him a huge smile, and he could see tears in her eyes. "Wally," she repeated breathlessly, embracing him again. She came up to his chest. The last time they'd spoken, they'd been roughly the same height. That had been back when he was still Kid Flash, of course. She'd been caught in an explosion. Or so everyone thought…

Wally shook his head clear. "Wait. Who are you, really?"

She looked up and gave him a small frown. As emotionlessly as possible, he debated all the reasons this could or couldn't be his aunt. On the one hand, Aunt Iris had been dead about five years, and she'd only been about 35 at the time. Not 60. And, well, Aunt Iris was _dead. _

On the other hand, he had this feeling…

He'd spent the majority of his career making sure the words _logic _and _Wally West _were never associated with each other. He wasn't about to change that now.

"You just said," Aunt Iris was saying. "It's me. Aunt Iris. I know it's been a long time, hon-"

Wally shrugged, interrupting her. "No big deal. I mean, I've dealt with imposters and clones before. So just as long as you're not one…" he gave her a long look before letting his own face fall into a small smile, unfolding his arms. "Aunt Iris!"

She smiled and hugged him again. "Oh, Wally," she said, stepping back quickly, "You've gotten so big." She reached up to put a hand on the side of his cheek. "All grown up, huh?" she laughed weakly, her hand sliding down to his uniform. Her fingers seemed to absentmindedly trace the lightning bolt on his chest before she pulled away abruptly. "I knew you were the Flash," she said. "I just…I just wasn't expecting it, I guess. It's so…Wally, wow. I'm so proud of you."

It was just the sort of thing he would have pictured 60-year-old Aunt Iris saying in this situation, if he had ever bothered to picture it. For the first few years after her funeral, he wouldn't even let himself think of Aunt Iris at all, so it had never really come up. But, at least she sounded accurate.

"Aunt Iris," Wally said, his voice coming out a little more commanding than he intended. "I think you owe me an explanation."

She snapped out of her train of thoughts. "Oh. Yes. I suppose I do." She paused awkwardly. "I already told you I'm from the future."

"Yep," said Wally. He knew he was still very skeptical and he sounded like it, too, but he felt almost…guilty for it. Like he shouldn't be doubting (the could-be-evil-imposter) Aunt Iris. "Are you trying to tell me you're not really dead right now, just hiding out somewhere, and you want me to change the time stream by coming to find you now?" That would be a typical-

"Oh, no," Aunt Iris replied hastily. "No, I'm not. Wally, I know it looked like I had died, and I'm sorry, but I was really just sucked back into my original time."

He raised an eyebrow at her, resisting the urge to put his cowl back up. This was just getting weirder and weirder. "You lost me."

"Wally, I was born in the 30th Century. I've spent the last thirty years there."

He promptly forgot whatever he was going to say, spluttering on his next words. "Wha-What?"

"I know it's hard to believe, Wally, but think about it. I was adopted, there was never a word about my real parents-"

"_But my Aunt Iris wasn't-"_

"Wally, please, I am your Aunt Iris! I know it's been a long time-"

"A long time? You bet it's been a long time! Aunt Iris wasn't old, either, and-"

"I spent an awfully long time in my birth time, Wally. That's all, and I meant to stay there, too."

Wally paused, forcing his mouth closed so he wouldn't blurt out something that didn't make any sense. He certainly hadn't been expecting this. "Ok, then," he said slowly, more confused than ever on whether this could be the actual Aunt Iris or not. "If you meant to stay there, why didn't you?"

She sighed. "Wally…" she said again. He wasn't sure why he was repeating his name so much, almost as if she couldn't believe this was really him. "I need your help, and you're the only one I could ask."

"My help?" he repeated, bewildered. "You traveled a millennia back in time to ask for help? Why would you need _my _help? What could I possibly do that the 30th century couldn't do, if they've mastered _time travel _of all things?"

She gave a small smile. "You're the Flash," she said simply.

Wally felt his heart skip a beat as he thought about all the implications of that statement. "I'm _the…" _Oh course, he'd never really thought about it or anything, but surely… "I'm the last Flash? Did I die or something? No other speedsters ever took up the Flash? Is it a bad name? I-"

"Wally, no, that's not what I meant. Don't worry; there are plenty of other Flashes." As she finished her statement, she sounded slightly amused. "It's just, well, I had to come to you."

"Why?" he asked incredulously.

"It's hard to explain," she answered, looking down.

Wally sighed. "Alright. What is it that you need?"

Aunt Iris (maybe) suddenly looked very tired. "This is a long story as well," she began. "I need you to save someone."

Wally pointed to the lightning bolt on his chest and gave a small smile. "That's my job description."

She nodded but didn't smile back. "Well, first you need to find him. He's in this time, definitely, but he bolted when we arrived and I don't know where he is. He should be able to keep himself out of too much trouble, but-"

"Aunt Iris, what are you talking about? Who do you want me to save?"

She sighed. "His name is Bart Allen." Wally's jaw dropped. "He's my grandson." _What the hell?_ Wally didn't say anything, so she continued, "That means he's your cousin. Once removed."

Wally forced himself to stop gaping like a fish and choked out, "And he's running…?"

"Yes, he has super speed too. And I don't know where he went."

_Well, fuck. _"You and Uncle Barry had _kids?" _His voice almost squeaked on the last note.

Aunt Iris looked down. "I was pregnant when I left. Twins. And then…Bart was born…" she sounded dangerously close to tears, so Wally forced himself to ignore all of his questions like the hero he was and move on to something else.

"Alright," Wally said tiredly. "Alright. How old is Bart?" she said he was running around already, so he had to be-

"He's two."

_Oh. _

"But he looks eleven."

_…what?_

"And at the rate his body is going, he'll die of old age before he's six."

_That sucks for him._

"That's why I came to you. The 30th century…" she paused. "The best they did was raise him in a virtual reality center so his mind could keep up with his body. You're the only one that could fix him."

Wally immediately decided that no villain, sane or insane, would ever come up with such a ridiculously complex story like that, so this had to be his real aunt. He smiled as relief blossomed through him. "First thing's first," he said, stepping forward and squeezing his aunt, burying his nose in her hair.

She chuckled and rubbed his arms. "What's this for?"

Wally stepped back, a silly grin still on his face, and shrugged. "Well, I didn't quite believe you before, but now I do."

She looked uncertain. "You do? Why now?"

He shrugged again. "Deductive reasoning," he said, watching her face with amusement as she tried to figure out what that meant, but quickly growing more serious again. "Now what's this about an aging problem?"

"He inherited the hyper accelerated metabolism," Aunt Iris answered. It was funny, she didn't look like she was from the future; she was wearing a shirt and jeans, with a brown purse. Ask about that later. "It's just too strong. He consumes mass amounts of food, too, but he's going to die, as I told you. Wally, you have to help him."

He looked down at her, feeling startled and already the starts of a bad feeling in his chest. "But what can I do?" he asked.

She frowned. "You're the Flash," she said again. "And you've always had a rockier metabolism that Barry. You know what it's like to be growing with powers like that, you were Kid Flash."

"I know Aunt Iris, but…" he trailed off, not quite knowing how to phrase _But I have no freaking idea how to fix it._

"Wally, please," Aunt Iris begged. "You have to do something."

She was right there. He'd give it his best shot, or his name wasn't Wally West. He pulled the cowl back up and got ready for business. "Ok," he said. "Before I can help him, I have to find him."


	3. Step 3

A/N: And, finally, we meet Bart. I don't own _Young Justice _or DC.

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><p><strong>Step 3: Locate Preteen Relative<strong>

_"Flash, there seems to be a problem with the tracker in your suit."_

Wally stopped in the middle of his jog around Keystone to use the communicator. "What is it, Superman? I'm kind of in a hurry here."

_"Well, I wouldn't want to spend a lot of time in Alaska either if I were you. What are you doing there?"_

He paused. "Can you repeat that?"

_"What are you doing in Alaska? I can see you kicking up a snowstorm. Which is funny, because the tracker says you're still in-"_

"The tracker's not broken, Clark." He never came up with any nickname for Superman because it felt weird after knowing Connor so well for all these years. "Hold that thought."

Damn, that little kid was _fast,_ if he was is Alaska already. Faster than he'd been as Kid Flash.

He zoomed through the contiguous United States and Canada as fast as he dared, veering towards northern Alaska. He hoped he could catch the Kid before he went on to the Bering Strait and Russia, because as little as he'd traveled through this part of the country, he'd been to Northern Russia even less. Even less being about 3 times, maybe, if he was in a hurry.

When plants became dirt, which became snow, Wally slowed down a few notches to try to find Bart. Alaska was a lot bigger than it looked on a map. What was the kid doing up here, anyways? Wasn't he cold? A voice in his head answered that if he was running than no, he wouldn't be that cold, but still. Snow. There are easier things to run on.

Wally forced himself to slow more as he got more and more frantic. What if he never even found the kid?

There. A slipstream. Wally felt it as he veered north and south across the ice. Must be left over from Bart. Wally zoomed after the trail, trying to focus on it enough that he wouldn't think about what would happen _after _he found Bart.

Again, he was impressed at how good Bart was for a two-year-old; he was running at a pretty impressive pace and was barely kicking up that much snow. Wally slowly leveled even with the boy, but the kid didn't seem to notice, which was weird because the Flash's costume was bright red. Whatever. Seeing as subtle had never really been his style, he decided on the abrupt approach.

"Hey! HEY! SLOW DOWN!"

They weren't _quite _at the speed of sound, so, in theory, Bart _should _have been able to hear him. However, he didn't. Either that or he was ignoring Wally. But probably the first one. Hopefully. He was only two, after all.

Two and running faster than a plane.

"HEY!" he shouted again, this time veering over far enough that he could wave his hand in front of the boy's face. "STOP!"

Whether a reaction to the words or the hand in front of his face, Bart threw on the brake and started stumbling back. Wally jerked his own hand back and stopped as well, jogging only a few steps to keep up with the boy. When he finally came to a complete stop, they were both ankle deep in snow - well, almost knee-deep for Bart.

Wally took a whole half-second to examine his cousin. Unlike Aunt Iris, he was wearing some sort of red jumpsuit with white sleeve that looked pretty futuristic. His wind-blown brown hair fell messily to just past his ears, and he was continually shaking it out of the way of his eyes, which he was opening and shutting rapidly trying to-

_Holy shit. His eyes are gold. _

He literally had almost glowing yellow eyes, with such intensity that Connor only achieved with laser vision. Wally quickly tried to convince himself that this was normal and forget about it. Other than that, he seemed like a normal kid. Wally could even see a little resemblance to Aunt Iris. Their noses were the same shape…

"Why did you stop me?" Bart interrupted his thoughts. "I need to be going."

He had an oddly proper way of talking for a kid. Wally pushed the thought aside. It probably had something to do with coming from the future. "Going? Where?"

"Hawaii," Bart answered promptly, moving one foot through the snow to try and free it. He didn't seem cold, but Wally wasn't, either. He must have the speedster temperature, too.

"Sorry, sport," Wally said. "You're kind of headed in the wrong direction."

Bart's face flashed into a frown. "Grife," he said, glancing down at the ground and quickly bending over to dig his feet free with his hands. He bent back upwards, a bare hand full of powdery snow. "What's this?"

"That's snow," Wally told him carefully. "Look, I've actually been looking for you."

Bart glanced up at him, then back on the snow. "What does it do?"

"Snow?" Wally asked, surprised.

"Yeah." He dropped the powder from hand to hand, watching intently as it fell.

"Well…it's frozen precipitation, really."

"It's shiny," Bart announced, holding it up to the sun on the horizon. "Can you actually do anything with it?"

Wally wrinkled his nose. He supposed there were worse ways this conversation could be going. "Well, sure." He bent over and scooped up a handful himself, packing it together and smoothing it out. "You can make snowballs-"

Bart zipped over and grabbed the snowball out of his hand. "What's this?" he asked.

"It's still snow," Wally replied (relatively) slowly.

Bart frowned. "Really? It looks different."

"It's just packed together."

"It's shiny."

Wally snatched the ball back. "Yeah, well, it's a snowball."

Bart's extraordinary eyes widened. "Ball?" he questioned. "Like, catch?"

"Yeah," Wally answered. "Here," he flicked the snowball towards Bart. He gasped as he extended his hands and the snowball shattered against them.

"Oh, no! I broke it!"

Wally felt himself smile for the first time. "Don't worry about it," he said. "We can always make more. Listen, your…Grandma, I guess, Grandma Iris sent me looking for you."

For the first time, Bart seemed to consider the actual person he was talking to, as if he had conversations with strangers all the time. He eyed the lightning bolt on Wally's chest. "Oh, yeah. She told me about you. But I seriously need to get to Hawaii."

"Why?" Wally asked, bending down a little to be closer to Bart's eye level. "What's more important in Hawaii than Grandma Iris?"

Bart shrugged. "I don't know. There's just something there. Pineapples, maybe. I've never had a pineapple. Or surfing. I've never gone surfing, either, but it can't be that much harder than running on water, can it?"

It sounded like something Wally might have spouted out in his Kid Flash days. "Why don't we go see Aunt Iris inste - what are you doing?"

"Is this still snow?" Bart questioned, picking up a crystal sheet in one hand. "It's shiny."

"That's ice," Wally explained, reaching out to tug it out of Bart's glace. "Let's just go. Okay?"

Bart looked up at him. "Okay. I'm Bart. Your name is Flash, right? Nice to meet you. Grandma said that you were going to have a meeting with me. Is that this? Is it about snow? I'm not so sure about it. Don't you get bored walking through all this white? How do you know where to go? I couldn't even get to Hawaii."

"Not everywhere looks like this, Bart," he said, grabbing one of Bart's elbows and gently as possible. "Come on. I'll show you."

"Are we going running? Grandma told me I really a lot faster than most people but where I grew up it really wasn't like that I mean I could get from one place to another really easily but everyone could kind of do that so-"

Wally started into a run, doing his best to make sure he wasn't dragging Bart behind him. He eventually quieted as his words fell away into the wind, Wally leading the way back down Canada, cutting through the Rockies as quickly as possible and back to good old Central City. He took it slow, using a good couple hours to get there, making sure Bart was steady on his feet.

It was early evening when they got back – around 5:00 central time, he assumed – and it was raining, which meant there weren't a lot of people outside to see Flash dragging a little kid by his arms through the streets. Which was for the best. Especially since said little kid was-

"Hey, what's a doughnut? I thought nuts came from trees! How do they have room to grow a doughnut tree in there? These buildings are way too close together! Is this rain? It's wet. Wetter than snow. Where does snow come from? Is it just frozen rain? Because you said snow was frozen precipitation, and Grandma said that rain is precipitation, so it is, right? You know, the rain's pretty shiny, too."

-chatting his ear off, looking around the city with a crazed look in his eyes.

He finally stopped them in front of one of the side entrances to the police lab, the one connected right to the station for emergency uses. Flash was known to pop in there sometimes to see how a case was coming along. That's where he'd hurriedly dropped off Aunt Iris before he'd left for the search. He paused before opening the door, wondering if he should give some kind of warning to Bart first. Most people would be heading out, but he would probably still encounter somebody.

SPLASH.

Wally spluttered as a huge wave of water hit him in the face. "Flash," a heartbroken voice whined in his ear. "You didn't catch my rainball!"


	4. Step 4

A/N: Bart in this chapter too, along with other characters and a lot more explaining on how the world's been going the last 7 or so years. Deviates from the comics a lot - especially when it comes to the Arrows - so be prepared. I'd like to thank my beta Mahlia a lot. I do not own _Young Justice. _Thanks, guys!

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><p><strong>Step 4: Cure Any Existing Medical Problems<strong>

"Well, here he is," Wally announced, dumping Bart on the table in front of where Aunt Iris was sitting. In a blink, Bart was off the table and seated next to her, glaring up at Flash and muttering, "About time you put me down can't carry a minor without permission just because Grandma likes you." Aunt Iris jumped, hands flying to Bart as she enveloped him in a hug, Wally watching a bit enviously. That's one of the things Wally had missed about her, she gave the best hugs.

"You found him!" she exclaimed, looking up to Wally. "Have you…?"

Wally, Flash, shook his head. "No. I told you, I don't know how."

"What?" piped up Bart, looking from one to the other.

"Fix you, Bart," Aunt Iris answered, still keeping her eyes on Wally. "So you don't have to live in the virtual reality machine anymore."

"Really?" he squeaked, looking from his aunt to the Flash. "How?"

How, indeed, was the golden question. "I'm working on it," he answered, avoiding eye contact with either of them – although hopefully they wouldn't be able to tell, because of the cowl and stuff. "Look, I'd love to help right now, but there's actually a bit of an emergency I have to take care of." Oh, he was a bad, dirty, rotten liar. "I'll be back in a couple hours. Can you guys hang tight here until then, or…?" he looked up to Aunt Iris, who was frowning, but she nodded anyways, keeping her hands on Bart's shoulders. "Cool. And, um, thanks. Talk to you later." And then Wally was gone.

Of course there was nothing he had to deal with. He'd been finishing patrol when he found Aunt Iris in the first place. And how the hell was he supposed to magically heal some kid? _Well he has a super-metabolism, Wally. You have a super-metabolism. Duh. Help him or he'll die in six years. _No pressure or anything.

He stopped running at the edge of Keystone City, not quite sure what his destination would be. He ran through his normal list of people he went to with his

_special_ problems. Well, if he couldn't handle it himself, usually the League. He paused on that possibility. Did he really want the League involved in this? No, not really, not at all. It was a little too personal. Iris and Bart had come to him. It was his problem, _his _family-

Wow. He hadn't said that word in quite a long time.

If it was personal and he just needed advice, he'd phone (or whatever the interspace word for phone was, he could never remember) Con and Meg. It was soothing, talking to actual people who'd survived the whole superhero thing and not become screwed up or dead. Now they were happily married on Mars, with an actual life that didn't involve dressing up in costumes and saving people from crazed lunatics and everything. Well, Jay kind of had that too, but he and Wally hadn't really spoken since Barry died. He was the link between them. When he was gone – well, Wally had barely spoken to Dick, let alone…

Dick?

_Ha. Funny._

That kid was even more messed-up than he was. They still talked to each other, got together, sometimes, but they weren't exactly close anymore. Right after Barry had died and Wally shut himself off from everybody, Dick had gotten in this huge fight with Bruce and almost got himself killed in Bludhaven the next week trying to become his own hero. At which point he and Wally had gotten into a huge screaming match.

_Wally, you don't understand!_

_Understand what? What exactly don't I understand? You're such an idiot! You could be dead!_

_But I'm not! Don't you see? I can handle things myself. I'm my own person. I'm not inferior. Bruce can't fucking – _

_At least he's alive, you asshole! _

They didn't speak to each other for over a year. After Robin II had died, Dick and Bruce had gotten into another fight, but at least they acknowledged each other's existence. For a brief period of time, Nightwing and Batman had worked together more often then not, and Dick had started to rekindle their old friendship again.

Then, of course, Bruce had stated that he was getting a new Robin a couple months ago, and the whole thing went to hell.

When Batman announced it to the JL, Nightwing had burst through the door five minutes later (Wally hadn't even known that he regularly hacked the League computers) and started shouting. He managed to get Bruce outside the room (Wally had _never_ heard Batman yell before then) and eventually they just disappeared. Probably back to the Batcave. Wally had never heard what happened, and frankly, he was scared to find out. They hadn't killed each other, at least.

Anyways – not Dick. Bad idea.

There were various other people he _could _have gone to, but it wasn't really like any of them knew anything about super speed anyways. So he just ran, let himself chase the setting sun, let his feet pound along familiar roads and pathways westward.

_I can't believe Aunt Iris is alive. Not just alive- from the future!_ _I can't believe Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris had kids. I can't believe Aunt Iris is old. She's a grandma. What does that make me? Cousin-something. Cousin once removed. Maybe. I can't believe Bart's my cousin. What happened to Bart's parents? Bart doesn't look a thing like Uncle Barry or Aunt Iris. Freaking gold eyes. Freaking family. I wonder how they're going to leave again. Do you think I could go back to the future with them when Bart gets fixed somehow? Well, probably not. I mean, she only let the world think she was dead for years before coming back…I can't believe she was alive and didn't tell me…_

His world suddenly rocked a little as something suspiciously arrow-shapedhit his feet and he pitched forward, not quite catching himself in time to prevent getting a nice, painful scrape over his chin. He winced as he stopped face-first on the ground, hearing the heavy pad of feet as two familiar black boots landed in front of him.

"You suck," he called loudly from the asphalt of Star City.

"Ouch, that is one ugly scratch. You should grow out those lovely ginger whiskers of yours to hide it."

"It'll heal in a couple hours," he corrected automatically, "and anyways, Red, you can't make any ginger jokes. Your hair's as bright as mine."

Roy Harper, aka Red Arrow, flashed a wicked grin at him as Wally pushed himself up to his feet. "Yeah, but I keep mine short."

"Yeah, well, I have a cowl." He gestured redundantly to the top of his head. "No need for army cuts. And chicks dig the hair."

Red Arrow rolled his eyes. "Flash, nobody says that anymore, you dork. Anyways, is there a reason why you're here?"

Wally gently rubbed his chin. He didn't think it was bleeding anymore, at least. "Well, it was to let you see my beautiful face, but seeing as you tried to destroy it-"

"Hey, I didn't mean for you to trip on the arrow, I just had to stop you somehow."

"Yeah, right. I suppose a com would have been a little too convenient?"

Red laughed. "Didn't think of that."

Wally rolled his eyes behind the cowl, making it obvious so that Roy would know what he was doing. "You're just jealous of my awesome physique."

Roy raised an eyebrow, from what he could tell. "I would say you hit your head a bit too hard, but I know you're always this crazy. So, no emergencies, then?"

Wally sighed. "Nah," he answered, deliberately not trying to think about Bart and Aunt Iris. "Nothing urgent."

"Cool," Roy replied then, shooting a grappling arrow up onto the nearest roof. "Let's have a talk, then."

Wally looked up to the top of the building warily before running up there himself. A talk? Since when did he and Roy have talks? That didn't sound good. He found Roy kneeling on the roof, bow in one hand, the other twitching over his quiver. "I'm kind of glad you're here, actually, Waldo," Roy continued nonchalantly.

_"What?"_

"Waldo. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? I'm thinking that's your new name. Anyways, Waldo, I have a bit of a problem, and seeing as your moral compass always points north, I figure you're the guy I need to talk to about it."

Wally, who was in the middle of sticking his tongue out at Red behind his back, paused at the words. "Really? Since when am I the angel of us all? Everybody's always getting on at how disrespectful and stuff I am."

"You don't mean any of it," Roy replied. "You're always been the best at knowing what's right, anyways. You've never lost it. Ignored it, maybe, but never lost it."

"…Thank you?" he questioned, walking over to sit next to where Roy was kneeling, scanning the streets below him.

"Anyways, I have a problem."

"Dude, you have many."

"Shut up," he commented. "No, really. You remember Ollie? I mean, of course you do. Everyone does." He paused, suddenly looking down, arms tightening around his bow.

Wally hesitated again before answering. He still wasn't over Barry's death – he really didn't think he was the person to go to for dead mentor help. "What about Ollie?" he finally asked back.

Roy let out of huff of air. "Ollie," he said to the rooftop, "Ollie had a son."

A _what? _

No way. Not after what was currently waiting back in Keystone for him to return. No way.

"A son. A freaking son," Roy continued violently, ignoring Wally's shocked silence. "And Ollie knew about him. He knew about him, and didn't tell anyone. Didn't tell _me. _Didn't mention him in the will, didn't nothing. I only found out because of these papers he had stuffed in the back of some filing cabinet in the Arrow cave. He's real, Wally, he's Ollie's real son. There's blood tests and everything, and I've double checked all the records of his existence in the state. The kid's off being raised in some monastery or something right now. Ollie just left him there. His son. His damn _son!" _

Wally couldn't remember the last time Roy had just outright told him something like that. Roy never talked about…well, anything. This must have really been bothering him.

Well, why wouldn't it? Unlike Wally, this little kid wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.

"After everything," Roy continued, "Well, I know we had our differences and shit, but in the end, he left me everything. The money, the mansion, the gig. I thought…well, the least he could do was let me know of all the bastard children he was leaving behind too."

_Roy, Ollie still considered you the closest thing he had to a son. Don't worry about it. _"Wow," he said dully instead. "What are you going to do?"

Roy sighed. "I don't know. I don't have a fucking clue. But, Wally – he's Ollie's son. I can just leave him to be raised by monks. All monks are creepers. Everyone knows that."

"Dude," he interjected automatically, "That's so racist."

"Monks aren't a race, genius."

"Whatever. So, what, you're going to raise him?"

He hadn't meant it seriously, but Roy's face darkened again. "I don't know. Don't know at all. I mean, me, raising a kid. Even if we forget _this _part of my job," he loosed an arrow into the sky, watching as it exploded into a bunch of red sparks in the air, "I still can't raise a kid. But I can't just _leave _him there. I'm not Ollie. He deserves to know. God, I don't know what to do, Wally. He deserves to know."

Wally gave him a small look. "I think you've found your answer, then. Talk to him first. How old is he?"

Roy sighed. "Ten. Twelve. I forget. You sure? What if it ruins his life, though? How do you know? Wally, how do you always know? I mean, what do you do that solves all your problems?"

Wally snorted. "Only thing I can do. I run."

Roy gave a strangled laugh. "And when that doesn't work?"

Wally shrugged, thinking about it. Every single problem he'd ever faced could usually be solved with running. And when that didn't work? "Run faster," he said.

Wait…every single problem…

"I run faster," he repeated, and then jumped suddenly to his feet. "That's it! Red, you're a genius!"

Roy gave his the weirdest look. "And you're crazy."

"I'll be – heyIheardthat," he spoke, vibrating a little in place in anticipation. "Anyways, back in a-"

"Don't say it!"

"I was going to say couple of days, dude," Wally answered. "You're paranoid. Seeya!"

"I've got it!" Wally announced as he stopped with an abrupt halt in front of his relatives back at the police station, but however was immediately shushed by his aunt. "What?" he mouthed to her. She glanced pointedly to the table in the middle of the office, where Bart was sprawled out on its surface, snoring lightly. The wrappers of the couple dozen or so granola bars Wally kept stacked in here for emergencies were piled on the chair.

"Oh," he whispered. Was it just his imagination, or did Bart already look older in the couple of hours he was gone? "Um…what do I do?"

Aunt Iris rolled her eyes. "Wake him up gently or else he'll get scared and run. He's not used to waking up here."

Wally was seriously considering asking Aunt Iris to do it, but faltered when she gestured him forward impatiently. Apparently she really wanted him to. No big deal; he was the Flash, after all. If he could fight off baddies surely he could wake up an eleven-year old.

He stepped cautiously up to where Bart was sleeping and poked him in the arm. He glanced over his shoulder at Aunt Iris, who was expressionless, before turning around and poking Bart again, harder. This time Bart groaned and twitched in his sleep. "Bart," Wally hissed again, grabbing the boy's shoulder and shaking him a little bit. Bart jumped, his eyes snapping open. He gave Flash a disoriented stare, twisted his arm away, and was flinging himself off the table and towards the door before Wally realized he was awake already.

Wally flung out his arm and was able to snag the side of Bart's jumpsuit before he'd shot out the door. He stumbled a few steps forward as Bart fell back, struggling in Wally's arms.

"Hey, hey, it's me," Wally tried telling him, but Bart just flailed harder. "It's me, Flash, remem-"

He cut himself off when Bart's hand attached itself to one of the lightning bolts on his cowl and started tugging it backwards. "Hey!" he repeated indignantly, as Bart then grabbed the other one to and started to shake them both like he was a bull rider. "You don't like the cowl? Fine! I was never really a fan either." Using one hand to make sure Bart didn't escape (or more of fall, at this point, because Wally was basically carrying him) Wally used his other the pull the cowl off his head to reveal his face for the first time. Hey, if he couldn't trust family from the future, who could he trust?

Bart stopped when Wally revealed his head, frowning. "You look funny."

"Thanks," Wally said slowly, setting Bart back on the ground. Bart was still giving him a look of puzzlement.

"I never pictured you with a face," he stated.

"Oh," Wally, looking to Aunt Iris for help. She was smiling to herself, but still offered nothing. "Well, I have one. Everyone does."

"Are you sure?" Bart asked quizzically.

"Yeah. I have name, too."

Bart snorted. "I know that. It's the Flash, silly."

"Well, I have a name that goes with my face." "Ohhhhhh." Great, now he understands. "What is it?"

"My name is Wally."

Bart, who'd seemed fairly serious the whole time, suddenly burst into giggles. "Haha! Ha! Your name is _Wallace?"_

_Why is that so funny? _"Your name is Bartholomew."

"Touché."

Wally eyed Bart suspiciously. That had sounded just a little too normal. "Do you even know what that means?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes!" Bart squawked indignantly. "It means touchy. In French."

Oh, Bart.

"Grandma said so."

Wally resisted the urge to slap himself in the forehead, instead raising an eyebrow at Iris, who shrugged, smirking to herself. "Look, Bart. I was actually wondering if you wanted to run with me."

He perked up. "Really? Where?"

"Where?" Aunt Iris echoed, giving Wally a look. Wally really wished she would speak more, instead of insisting on this let-Bart-and-Wally-bond endeavor. Bart would be going back to the future, anyways, Wally really didn't need to get to know him that well, to be honest. He would have rather spent time with Iris.

"Nowhere in particular," he answered, staring at Aunt Iris while using one hand to find Bart's and grasp it firmly. "Just a little run for our health. I mean," he looked back down again to find Bart's big, golden eyes, "It's not every day I meet someone as fast as you."

Bart beamed, using their connected hands to start to pull Wally out of the office, barely noticing as Wally pulled the cowl back up on the way. "You know I've never met anyone as fast as me either. Except you, of course. I've never just really gone on a run, either. Do you do this a lot? Do you think maybe we could stop for a snack on the way? I'm hungry. Those rectangle things were awful. Do you really eat those? I'm kinda thirsty too. Maybe-"

As soon as they were outside, Wally jerked on Bart's hand as to lead him into a run. Bart winced a little bit and struggled to adjust to the blistering 0-to-800 pace Wally had set, never once letting up the pressure on his hand.

Wally couldn't let himself stop, slow down. Something had to happen. He wasn't sure what, exactly, but if he ran fast enough, something would. Something always did. Speedsters defied the laws of everything like that. He just had to run fast enough.

"Flash," a small voice said next to him. He had to ignore it. "Wally," Bart pleaded. "My hand hurts."

Instead, he just stepped up the pace a little bit, blurring into Supersonic speed. Mach 2, mach 3, mach 4. Much faster than the speed of sound at this point; He couldn't exactly hear Bart's words as much as _feel _them. "I've never gone this fast before. Flash, can we slow down?" He struggles for breath. "I hurt all over. I need a break." Finally, "Wally, let go of me!"

He desensitizes himself so the boy's words mean nothing to him. Hypersonic speeds now. Mach 7, mach 8. Bart is…he doesn't let himself focus on Bart, because if he does, he'll slow down, and if he slows down, Bart will die. The thought fuels him. He needs to run to save his cousin's life. Not just anyone's life – his cousin.

At mach 10, traveling over two miles every second, Bart seems to have reached his limit. Wally's not surprised. It's a rough pace to maintain, even for him, and there have been silent tears on Bart's face for a little while now. It's faster than anything he would have reached when he was that relative age. Wally was sprinting when Bart's hand simply slipped from his. Bart kept up with him for two steps, and then fell to his knees.

They stopped by a small lake somewhere, surrounded by trees just beginning to show their spring buds. _Probably Minnesota_, Wally thought absently, _the place is full of them_. For a second, Bart was just on his knees, panting into the earth. Then he groaned, and keeled over, losing the fight with an exhausted body.

Wally dripped a little water from the lake onto Bart's forehead as a form of makeshift sweat, to make sure he didn't overheat, and then looked over the rest of him. His limp form didn't protest at all as Wally prodded his limbs, trembling a little from exertion. Muscle exhaustion, mostly likely. Probably needs food and water. Wally looked down to Bart's hand, lying curled on the ground. Probably needs an ice pack for that hand, too. It was already bruised.

Bart's limbs seemed thinner than before, his face a little longer. He now seemed more like a twelve, rather than an eleven year old. The part of his mind that had never grown out of its science geek phase started supplying him explanations. His body had probably never used that amount of energy at a time before, wasn't used to it, had started burning everything it could all at once, working faster to keep up, so Bart had grown a year in minutes. Hopefully, this sudden slow down would shock it down to normal aging. He should be cured.

Carefully, Wally picked Bart up and started a gentle jog back to Keystone. Bart would be fine.


	5. Step 5

**A/N: **If you were reading SSWW, this is also nothing new. I just forgot to put it up with the first batch. You can just read it again and enjoy it anyways. ;)

Thank my beta Mahlia. I don't own any of these characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Step 5: Have Aggressive Argument with Speedster Half Your Age<strong>

When it took Bart six whole hours to wake up, Wally was pretty positive that his metabolism was back to normal. He awakened more slowly this time, his eyes visibly fluttering open and adjusting to the semi-darkness of Wally's apartment. He seemed to relax as soon as he saw Iris, sitting on a chair across from the sofa Bart was resting on. The next thing he seemed to notice was a needle sticking into his arm. He looked at it for a second, and reached with his other hand to pull it out when Wally called "Wait!"

He stepped out of the doorway he had been leaning against, crossing the small room with a few strides. "Let me do it," he said, keeling next to Bart, gently starting to remove the medical tape that was holding the needle in place.

"What's that?" Bart asked drowsily.

"IV," Wally answered. "Stands for intravenous. It transports things directly to your veins. In this case, nutrients and hydration, both of which you needed badly."

Bart's eyes traced from the needle in Wally's hand, up the tube, and to the small what appeared to be a bag attached to a pole. "I didn't know that people from the past didn't eat."

Wally gave a distracted smile. "No, we do. IV's are just used for emergency purposes. I was only able to get a hold of this one because I'm a med student right now."

Aunt Iris raised her head. "Really, Wally?"

"Yep," he answered, extracting the needle from Bart's skin without missing a beat. Bart winced, but otherwise did nothing. "Just finished my first year of medical school. I intern at a clinic during the weekdays for summer."

He wasn't looking at her, so he couldn't see her face, but she sounded surprised. "But…you always wanted to be a chemist. You were so sure."

In a blur of motion, the IV went from sitting next to the couch in Wally's living room to disappearing back to where it had come from, probably cleaned and looking like it hadn't even been touched. In response to the question, Wally shrugged, putting a hand on Bart's shoulder to keep him from getting up as Wally sat next to Bart's knees on the couch. "Well, now I'm going to be a surgeon. My speed would actually help there."

Iris's eyes widened. "Wally, don't you think you use your speed enough as the-"

"I wasn't planning on becoming the Flash when I went into this," he snapped at her, quickly transferring his glare from her to the floor.

Awkward silence, Uncle Barry's unspoken name clearly resonating through the room. Bart broke it. "I'm tired," he said.

"Go back to sleep," Wally answered automatically.

"I don't want to," he responded, and then yawned. "Well. Not here."

Wally glanced over to Aunt Iris. "Well, where then?"

"My bed," he answered casually.

Wally smiled to himself. "Bart, that's kind of back in your own time period. You can sleep there as soon as you get back. For now, you're stuck with the couch."

Bart's eyes were drooping as he sleepily replied, "But we're not going back."

Wally ruffled Bart's hair – it felt like the right thing to do, his hair had constantly been ruffled as a kid – and then stood up. "I know you like it here, but you can't stay forever."

Bart rolled onto his side and looked up at Wally. "Yes, I am," he said.

It would be better to explain to Bart in the morning, when he wasn't holding back a yawn every other word. "Just go to sleep," he said again, slowly walking back to the doorway of the room. Aunt Iris stood up, following him. He threw one last look back at his cousin. Bart was curling up on his side, already falling asleep. "Good night, Aunt Iris," he mumbled. "Good night, Wally."

"Good night, Bart," Aunt Iris answered quickly. "Sweet dreams." She walked out of the door, leaving Wally standing there awkwardly.

"Um…night, kid," he said, watching Bart nod and quickly leaving the room himself, before Bart would say something worse like 'I love you.' Even though they were supposedly related and all, Wally really wasn't ready for that. They'd only met a day ago, for crying out loud. So he exited into his tinier kitchen and turned to Aunt Iris to deal with the next crisis. "Why does Bart think he's not going back?"

Aunt Iris sighed, bringing a hand to her face. She was so small and so much _older _than he remembered. "Wally, the future is far from perfect, and time travel is tricky at best. This was kind of a one way trip."

The one thought in his mind that clearly visible on his face was _What?_ Aunt Iris gave him a weak smile. "I know it's shocking, and not fair for us to just drop in and expect-"

"Oh, no," he interrupted guiltily. "I didn't mean it like that. You don't know how great it is that you're back. I've missed you so much. I just, I just-"

She laughed at his stuttering. "I know what you mean, dear." He sighed in relief. "Perhaps I should have told you right away. We can't go back, and I'm not sure I'd want to. This time really is my home, Wally, and I'm sure it will be a great one for Bart, too."

Oh, yeah. Bart, too. That would be a problem.

Where were they going to live? Honestly, they could crash on the couch for a couple days, but there really wasn't enough room in his apartment for three people. Honestly, it was a _college _apartment. Speaking of which, he was in college, which meant he really could barely pay for his own things, let alone stuff for two other people. He already ate a few too many meals at the JL cafeteria to satisfy his appetite. If Bart was anything like he was, it was not going to work.

Speaking of which, Bart was a minor. Didn't that mean Wally was legally obligated to send him to school or something? Well, he was only two, but he couldn't hang around all day. But he looked twelve-ish, so it would be pretty hard trying to get him into a preschool. What grade are you when you're twelve? Sixth? Could Bart survive sixth grade?

Crap. Schools meant paperwork. Where the hell was he supposed to get a birth certificate and all that crap? "I'm going to need to talk to Batman," he announced.

Aunt Iris was nodding – she was probably used to it, because you always go to Batman when you need something illegal – when a voice said from the doorway, "Who's Batman?"

Wally whipped around, astonished. "You just went to sleep!"

Bart shrugged. "I'm not tired anymore."

"You're overtired," Aunt Iris commented.

"I am not!"

Wally turned to her. "Do you want to take care of him while I go see about getting you official papers?"

Iris nodded. "Sure," she said. "I know it will be impossible to make me up an identical past, but please do your best. I'd like to be able to get a job again. Come back soon. We have many things to catch up on."

Her words made Wally feel like he was avoiding them – which he really _wasn't, _he was just the Flash and Flash doesn't sit still for very long, as his other members of the JL would surely attest to. Speaking of other members of the JL, Batman could do just about anything. Surely coming up with a couple of fake IDs shouldn't be hard. No, the hard part would be explaining why he needed them.

Eh. Like he hadn't dealt with big, scary Batpeople in the past.

He decided that, although he could have used his communicators, this was probably a trip best made in person. That way Batman could read his body language and stuff like that, which would make him more comfortable because he would feel like he had more information. Like Wally had said, silly Batpeople.

He changed back into his uniform in his bedroom, and overheard Bart asking "If his name is Batman, why doesn't he use baseballs?" on the way out the door. The question made him smile. He'd probably already asked what percentage of him was actually human.

He headed straight for Gotham, not wasting any time in going straight to the Batcave, hidden away near a hill. He took care to avoid any of the main streets – Batman would especially hate it if civilians saw a meta in his city.

_"Recognized: Flash."_

The same automatic voice that seemed to work every computer (well, Batman had designed every one of them) let him step through the door. It was cleverly disguised as a rock, probably one of multiple entrances Bruce used to confuse people. "Batman? You home?" he called, pausing before looking around in the twilight that was the edge of the Batcave. "Bats?"

"What do you think?" a voice growled, echoing from much deeper inside the cage.

"By the computer, then," he answered, his voice sounding a lot more confident than he actually was. He hadn't been in here since…god, it's been ages since he'd last been in here. Dick had probably been the one to invite him over. There was a mélange of various knick-knacks shelved against the walls, most likely collected by Dick, or the second Robin. Speaking of which –

"Where's Robin?" he asked as he strode forward towards the huge supercomputer than dominated a huge portion of a cave wall. He'd never found out what happened after Dick and Bruce's huge fight at the JL meeting…

Oh, crap. Huge fight. Open mouth, insert foot.

"Bludhaven," Batman answered only a little more aggressively than usual, ignoring Wally's blunder. He didn't bother to turn around, still studying his computer.

"Bludhaven?" he echoed quizzically.

"Nightwing insisted on training the boy personally for three months. He has six weeks remaining."

"Oh," he said, grateful for Batman's no-nonsense attitude. Dick was about halfway done, then. Wally hadn't known he was training the new sidekick. Last Wally knew, Dick had vehemently opposed the idea of any more sidekicks after what happened to Jason. This must just be a compromise with Bruce – from what Wally had seen, Batman _needed_ a partner, and Dick was being a dick about it.

"Why are you here?" Batman asked, and from years of practice, Wally could hear a slight edge of impatience in his voice.

Right. What he originally came here for. "I was kind of hoping for a favor, actually."

It was a bit disconcerting, talking to the back of the chair. "What?"

"I need a couple of fake IDs for a minor and an old lady."

Batman paused slightly before answering. "You're six feet tall. I doubt you could pass for either of those things."

"What? No, not for me. They're for my aunt and cousin from the future."

This caused Batman to actually turn around and face him, visible face impassive. "What?"

"Well," Wally corrected, "First cousin once removed, really."

"You have some explaining to do."

Well, at least Bruce was taking him seriously. Kinda. That was progress. He explained all he could, Batman just sitting there in stoic silence.

When he'd finished, Batman just nodded curtly and said, "I'll see what I can do. I'll have to see them sometime."

"Of course," Wally answered, but Batman was already turning back around again. "Um…do you have any suggestions on what I should do with them? Long term? They kind of need a place to live, and stuff, and if it will be a while for Aunt Iris to get papers so she can have a job…"

He could almost hear the mental sigh Batman was giving. For a second, he thought the Dark Knight wouldn't answer, but then he heard, "Consider the Garricks."

Oh, yeah. Aunt Iris had been close with Joan. That was a good idea. "Hadn't thought of that. Thanks, Bats."

He got a grunt in reply. Well, Batman had never been one for idle chatter. Wally turned around, making sure his uniform was set to go, and raced back to Keystone City.

* * *

><p>Bart and Aunt Iris were still in the kitchen when he arrived back. "Get off the counter," he told Bart quickly, not seeing the answering frown through a yawn of his own. "Batman will help us. He'd have to meet with you guys, sometime. He suggested maybe calling up the Garricks until then."<p>

Aunt Iris's face brightened at the idea. "They're still around? Oh, good. But we can talk in the morning, Wally. You look exhausted."

He half-shrugged in agreement. "Little, I guess. I can grab some blankets and sleep on the floor if you want the bed-"

"Don't bother," she interrupted, eyes locking on his. "I was planning on staying up a little while longer, anyways. You need your sleep."

He decided that it was no use arguing with her, just nodding. He looked around one more time, having the strangest urge to ruffle Bart's hair before he left. He shook his head to clear it, turning around. It must just be because that's what Uncle Barry did to him when he was younger. Yeah.

Wally just barely remembered to change into pajamas before falling down face-first into his pillow. It was actually a good thing Aunt Iris hadn't come in here, actually. His room was a mess…

* * *

><p>He'd been dozing for maybe five minutes, maximum, when something poked him in the side. He groaned into his pillow and rolled towards the intrusion, figuring that if it was an attacker it would at least have the courtesy to let him get up.<p>

"Wally. _Wally."_

He opened his eyes blearily to find a certain somebody a little too deep into his personal space. He said something intelligent like, "Gah, Bart," using one hand to find the boy's chest and push him back as far as he could.

It did no good, however, Bart seemed only to take this an invitation to walk right back over and hop onto Wally's bed, climbing over him to get to the other side so he would have room to sit. "Good, you're awake," he noted. "I need to talk to you."

Wally rolled over onto his back, grumbling something about goddamn speedster cousins that it was a good thing Bart didn't hear.

"Grandma was telling me more about superheroes. She already told me about you because we're related and have the same powers and had to meet and stuff, but now she told me about everyone else. Hey Wally, if Superman is super, why isn't Batman a bat and why isn't Aquaman made of water?"

Wally sighed. "Because Superman isn't super, Bart. He's Kryptonian. If that's all, you can go now."

"What's Kryptonian?" Bart quipped cheerfully, ignoring Wally's aggressive tone. "No, that's not it at all. That's not why I came in here, anyways. I had a question. Grandma said something about Robin that I didn't understand. How can there be two of them at the same time?"

"There's two Green Lanterns," he said, ignoring the fact that there was never and never would be two Robins at the same time. Then there would have to be two Batmans and – well, there was no way _that _would ever happen.

"What? What are Green Lanterns?"

He mentally berated himself – he should know by know not to mention anything Bart didn't know of unless he wanted to explain how the world worked until he was old and gray. "Nothing. Never mind. There aren't two Robins at the same time, Bart."

"But Grandma said there were two. One that was your friend, and then another one."

He wondered how Aunt Iris could possibly have explained so much without getting interrupted every other sentence. "There were two Robins, Bart, but they didn't act as Robin at the same time. Kind of like me and…well."

"Grandpa?" Bart supplied.

Phew. He knew about that. "Yeah, like your Grandpa. When he died, he asked me to become the Flash, so I did."

"The first-Robin-that-was-your-friend-died?" Bart exclaimed at rapid fire speed. "No-wonder-you're-so-"

"No!" Wally interrupted. "No, the first Robin didn't die. The second one did."

"WHAT? But-then-how-did-why-is-he-the-"

"Let me explain."

"-that-doesn't-make-sense-if-he's-the-second-"

"Shut up," he snapped, making Bart in his tracks with a hurt expression on his face. "Listen. Back when your Grandpa was the Flash, I was his Kid Flash. His sidekick. You know about that, right?"

Bart nodded, frowning and looking down at the bed.

"Batman's sidekick was the first Robin. The first Robin and I were sidekicks at the same time."

"Grandma said you two were best friends."

Wally sighed. "Yeah, yeah, we used to be. Anyways-"

"What do you mean, used to be?"

Wally eyed Bart. "Well, we're not really best friends anymore."

"Why not?"

"Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?"

Bart pouted. "Yes."

"Anyways, then the first Robin grew up a bit, wanted to move out, and got into a big fight with Batman because he was being a dou- I mean, a moron, about it. The he quit being Robin, ran away to another city, and created a new superhero identity for himself, Nightwing. He runs around the city of Bludhaven by himself to this day."

Bart kept on looking at him. That was the end of the story, right? "Ta da," Wally finished awkwardly.

"What about the second Robin?"

"Oh yeah." He'd forgotten. He'd never actually met Robin II. "Well, while Nightwing was in Bludhaven, Batman got lonely. So he decided to let a new little boy become Robin." He could practically feel Bart's eyes glue themselves to his face. "Nightwing was very angry. He thought that because he created Robin, he should be able to say who got to become Robin and who couldn't. Batman said that Robin was his partner and he could pick whomever he wanted to make Robin. They had another fight and didn't speak to each other for a long time."

He really should stop telling only Dick's side of the story – bad habit, he guessed, picked up from years of covering for the guy. "Anyways, one day Batman and Robin, the second Robin, were in a fight with a bad man called the Joker, and the second Robin was killed. Simple as that."

Bart was surprisingly silent for a little while. "Oh," he eventually said softly, looking over at Wally's face.

"Yeah," he found himself agreeing. That had just about been his reaction to the entire situation, too. "Now Batman's trying to get another Robin."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"But…what if he dies, too?"

He gave Bart a grim smile. "That's the problem, but Batman won't budge. I think he's forgotten how to work solo."

"But the first Robin didn't die."

"Nope."

"You didn't die."

He threw a look over at Bart. "Where are you going with this?"

Bart shrugged. "Well, as long as this Robin doesn't die, then he should be good, right?"

It made sense that he would be a terrible optimist. "Bart, it's not that simple."

"But you turned out good."

He rolled over onto his other side so he could get a good look at Bart. "Bart, you don't know me. Did I? Really?"

Bart looked back at him steadily, but his tone of voice seemed to discourage Bart from chasing the subject. Instead, he just asked, "Why aren't you and Nightwing best friends anymore?"

"Geez, Bart." Way to put him on the spot. He racked his mind for a good answer to that, and found none. "I don't know," he answered truthfully.

"I had a best friend once. His name was Dox."

"Really."

"He was real!"

Wally tried to stop another yawn from coming. "Listen, kid, it's getting late, and I have work tomorrow."

"Cool where do you-"

"I'm an intern at a clinic." He interrupted smoothly, closing his eyes. "See you tomorrow, Bart. Good night. Get out of my room."

"Hmm…"

After there was no movement on his bed, he reopened one eye. "Bart. Leave."

"Oh. Oh, right. Yeah, see ya sometime, Wally."

Within another five minutes, the fastest man alive was back to sleep.

"_Wally. _Pssst, Wally. What's a condom?"

* * *

><p>For what might have been the first time in his life, Wally was pretty glad when the alarm clock woke him. He'd been having awful dreams. He couldn't remember what they were about – he rarely remembered his dreams – but he had the sneaking suspicion that it involved a certain first cousin once removed.<p>

He stumbled from his bedroom straight into the bathroom. Normally he stopped to have a pre-breakfast snack before showering, but he figured he could be polite and look like less of a pig while relatives were here. When he was finished and decently dressed for the day, he arrived in the kitchen. Aunt Iris already there, helping herself to some coffee that Wally rarely drank because, honestly, he usually didn't feel like waiting for the water to boil.

She smiled at him when he entered the kitchen, and for a second he was thirteen again, ready to be fed breakfast and shipped off to school. "Hi, sleepyhead," she said, placing a cup of coffee down on the table for him, and suddenly he was an adult again, because there was no way Aunt Iris ever would have trusted teenage him with a cup of coffee. He wasn't quite sure the wisdom of letting his adult self with a cup of coffee because, come on, speedster.

Speedster…

"Where's Bart?"

"I thought he was in your room."

It was the last sentence he ever wanted to hear. "What?" he yelped. "Like I would let him stay in there!"

"What's that supposed to mean? You kicked him o-"

Before either of them had time to panic properly, Wally's phone rang, interrupting their conversation. He cursed, causing Aunt Iris to glare at him as she picked it up. _Why _was she picking it up? This was a crisis! They didn't have time for phone calls!

"Hello?" she listened to the person on the other end, before nodding to him. "It's for you."

Well, duh, this was his apartment. He glared at her as he spoke into the phone "This is kind of a bad time, could you call back later-"

"_Wally," _the voice on the other end growled. "No way in hell are you hanging up on me for a girl you're sleeping with."

Despite not having had a phone conversation with this person in a couple years, he recognized the voice instantly. "Eeew, dude. I'm having family over. Give it rest, would you Dick?"

"Well, I would Wally, if what you just said wasn't fundamentally wrong. If you're having family over there, then why is there currently a speedster claiming to be related to you handcuffed to a roof in my city?"

Sure enough, in the background, Wally could hear a high voice crying, "Nightwing, about the hand-cough, I think it's broken. My hand's not coughing and I'm stuck."

"Shit," Wally swore.

"You better get your butt over here right-"

WHOOSH.

"This now enough for you?" Flash asked, standing on top of some godforsaken roof in Bludhaven. The sun was just starting to timidly peak through the clouds on the eastern horizon, which meant that it was Nightwing's bedtime and that he would be extra-cranky.

Nightwing snapped his cell phone shut (since when did Nightwing carry a cell phone on him) and said, "What the hell is this?" He jerked his thumb towards one of those heating-duct-things, next to which sat Bart, eyes wide at the confrontation. He was sitting crisscross applesauce with his hands in his lap, paying no mind to the handcuff that attached one of his wrists to the grate next to him.

"Watch your mouth," Flash told him roughly, "He's only two." He started walking towards Bart. "Hey, bud, how're you feeling?"

Bart beamed up at him. "I found something shiny! But it's not rain or snow or even precipitation at all. Nightwing said it was a hand-cough. I don't understand. Why would you have a hand-cough but not a throat-cough?"

"Well," Wally began, but someone interrupted him.

"What the hell are you thinking?"

Flash turned, narrowing his eyes at Nightwing. "I said don't use that word."

"What, he's out fighting in the streets but he can't hear swears?"

"Who said anything about him fighting?"

"I thought you were with me on this! We can't send any more kids out to their deaths! You know how dangerous being a sidekick is!"

"He's not my sidekick!"

"Yes, I am," Bart interjected suddenly.

Flash stiffened, slowly turning his head towards his cousin. "No," he said, "you're not."

"Yes I am."

"Approved or not, Wally, he seems ready to run halfway across the country for you. What were you thinking? You gave him powers? Why in the-"

"I didn't give anybody powers, _Dicky, _so if you would stop jumping to conclusions and freaking out and using names while we're in uniform-"

"Oh, who's around to hear us?"

"You're supposed to be the fucking responsible one!"

"What happened to not cursing?"

"And would you leave my baby cousin alone? You can't handcuff a kid to a roof, Dick, and-"

"It's not my fault you haven't taught him to vibrate through things yet!"

"I haven't taught him squat! We met-"

"And why didn't you tell me family, _Flash? _You couldn't at least have the courtesy to-"

"_I just met him-"_

"You guys really used to be best friends?"

They both froze on reflex at the higher voice, so wrapped up in their argument that they'd forgotten about the other presence on the roof. Nightwing glanced from Wally, to Bart, to glaring at the horizon. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah, back when he had his priorities straight."

Wally narrowed his eyes. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you twenty now? Isn't your rebellious stage supposed to be over?"

Dick glanced back at him, his mouth quirking. "The founding fathers were plenty old when they rebelled against England. There's no maximum age when the system's wrong."

"What system?"

Nightwing pointed at Bart. "The system of _breeding _someone to _replace you-"_

"I didn't ask for him!" Wally shouted.

"Then why is he here?"

"Yeah, Bart," he repeated, changing tracks suddenly, because he was really disgusted with Nightwing and didn't want to deal with him any more. "Why are you here? I don't remember giving you permission." He sounded absolutely mentor-y, but he really didn't care. Nightwing could go stuff his attitude up somewhere very nasty.

Bart shrank back. "I wanted to go find Nightwing for you. You sounded really sad when you were talking about him yesterday, so I wanted to go talk to him so you could be friends again."

Wally sighed. "You just thought about this and left?"

Bart nodded timidly.

"Impulsive little brat, isn't he?" Nightwing muttered.

Coming from anyone else, he might have agreed, but he was really fed up with Dick. "Shut up! That's my family!"

"A family that you decided to curse?"

"He was born like that!"

At last, that seemed to go through Nightwing's thick skull. He looked reasonably shocked. "It's genetic?" He looked from Bart to Wally. "Whose kid is that?"

Wally crossed his arms. "Not mine, if that's what you're implying. That's Barry's grandson."

Dick didn't have a response.

"That's right. You don't know shit about my life, because you walked out on me and just about everyone else." He turned and crossed the roof to Bart, crouching down nest to him. "Now let's see about getting you out of this thing without your arm exploding."

"Wally," Dick said from behind his back. He ignored the call.

In front of him, Bart was frowning. "Why are you guys being so mean to each other?"

He didn't have a good answer for the question, so he ignored that too.

"I'd give anything to have Dox back."

As he really didn't want to risk Bart's arm exploding, he stood up and turned back to Nightwing. "Where's the key?" he demanded.

Nightwing had a stony look on his face. "Not until you promise me he won't be your sidekick."

"I don't owe you anything. Now give me the goddamn key."

"Promise me."

"He can't," Bart piped up from behind them. "I'm already his sidekick."

"Bart!" Wally exclaimed exasperatedly. "No. You're not."

"Well, then, I'm going to be."

He spun back around. "You're not! God, Bart, why don't you ever listen to me?"

Bart looked hurt again. "I always listen to you," he said quietly.

"How can you say that? We've only known each other for a day!"

Aw, darn it. The kid looked like he had tears in his eyes. "A day for them, Wally! It's a lot longer for me! You, too, I thought. I thought we were the same."

"Bart, I'm normal."

"And I'm a freak?"

It was a harsh, harsh word, one that Wally had labeled himself on the bad days. How did he even know that word? "Just different," he said.

"Too different to be your sidekick?"

Would that work? If he agreed with that, would it work? Somehow, Wally couldn't bring himself to say it. He wasn't that much of a douchebag. "Why do you want to be Kid Flash so much?" he demanded instead.

"Because you were Kid Flash!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. The handcuff rattled as it strained against the grate. "And I wanted to be like you! But I guess not, huh? You're mean and manipulative and you never listen to me-"

"It's only been a day!"

"-and you treat me like I'm stupid! I'm not! I'm a lot smarter than you think I am!"

This was the last thing he needed, a temper tantrum. "Oh, really? How are you planning to get out of those handcuffs without me?"

Bart raised his chin defiantly. "Robin will help me," he declared.

Nightwing stepped up next to Wally. "Robin's not here," he said.

"Yes he is," argued Bart. "He snuck back right after you ordered him to go home. He's in that corner right now. He jerked his head back to the opposite side of the roof from where they are, where a very guilty-looky Robin had frozen with one foot off the edge and a grappling hook in his hand.

_Busted. _

"Robin," Nightwing hissed. "What are you doing here?"

Robin shrugged. "Listening," he said, turning towards them. His uniform surprised Wally – a lot of the black on Dick's uniform had been replaced with green, and the inside of his cape was dyed yellow. Altogether, it was a lot more of a flamboyant look that reminded Wally vaguely of a traffic light.

When no one gave a reply, Robin glanced from Flash to Nightwing to Bart, eyes settling on the youngest speedster. "Why do you think I will help you?"

"Because if you do, I'll let you give me your cape," Bart answered promptly, eyes following said object as Robin slowly approached the three of them.

"I can't give you my cape," Robin told him simply.

"Oh." Bart said. "That's too bad. In that case, you should let me out so we don't turn out like them-" he jerked his head back towards Dick and Wally "-when we grow up."

Robin looked up at the pair of them, seemed to have some sort of silent conversation with Dick (which really shouldn't have been possible, they were both wearing masks, really) and then turned to Bart, grabbing the handcuffs and something out of his utility belt.

"Thanks," Bart said breathlessly, "you know for a second there I thought you weren't going there and then I'd be stuck here forever and then I'd never be able to get your - I mean, a cape. Hey, Robin's a bird too, right? Can you fly?"

"No."

As Wally watched Bart, he mentally compared his cousin to himself when he first became Kid Flash. Looking back, he could have been so much worse. "I was such a good child," he whispered to himself. Next, to him, Dick snorted, and Wally flashed a smile at him before he remembered that they were supposed to be mad at each other.

_Awkward…_

There was a sudden break in Bart's chatter and a clang as the handcuffs snapped out, rattling against the grate. "That was so cool!" Bart exclaimed, examining his newly freed wrist. "Do you think you can teach me that sometime? Do you want to hang out? "

Robin was still expressionless. "I don't think Batman would like that very much."

"Why not? Let's go ask him. I can go see him right now. Then we can-"

"Oh, no," Wally interrupted, grabbing Bart's arm firmly. "No way."

Bart scowled up at him. "Why not?"

"Do I look like I want to die?"

"I don't have to listen to you," Bart told him, trying to get away. "I'm not Kid Flash and I never will be, remember?"

"Yeah, but you are my cousin." Wally wondered vaguely if Dick had another pair of handcuffs.

"Let me go!" Bart shouted, clawing at Wally's hand. "You can't do this!"

"Yes, I can. I'm bigger than you."

"You said I had to see Batman anyways, remember? Why not go now with Robin? It would be so much easier!"

Nightwing narrowed his eyes. "You've been to see Batman recently?"

That didn't sound good not good at all. "It was nothing, really," Wally lied quickly, tugged Bart along behind him. "Let's go."

"YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME LET ME GO YOU STUPIDHEAD-"

It was pretty amazing how fast Bart had picked up 21st century lingo, Wally thought as he leapt off the building, ran down the wall, and started back home.


	6. Step 6

A/N: New, never-before-seen chapter for you guys. (As a warning, it will be a little while before the next one comes out.) Beta-ed by Mahlia. I can't thank her enough. Now, if any of you are familiar with Bart outside of this story, you might be wondering "Where's Max Mercury?" According to a couple things I've heard, the speed force doesn't exist in this continuity. Therefore, I made the decision that if the Speed force doesn't exist, Max Mercury wouldn't exist. Sorry to anyone who was looking for him.

Insert Standart Disclaimer here.

* * *

><p><strong>Step 6: Ship off Relative Away to Older and Wiser Speedster that can Actually Handle This Mentoring Nonsense<strong>

"Most people go limp when they're unconscious," Wally grumbled to the body in front of him. "But no. That would make my life too easy, wouldn't it, Bart? You just have to be twitchy."

As if he was listening, Bart jerked on the bed in a way that made Wally wonder if he was experiencing a mild post-traumatic seizure. As if diagnosing normal patients wasn't hard enough, now he had to deal with somebody who not only had a super-metabolism, but also a thousand years of human evolution on his side. What did this make Wally? Not a happy med student, that was for sure. "Bart. _Hold. Still."_

Two minutes ago, Wally would have sworn Bart's collarbone had been fractured. Now, returning to it after he finished his examination of the rest of the body, he couldn't tell. He was experimentally applying pressure to it when Bart's eyes flew open and he gasped.

_Hm. Probably still fractured, then. _

"Where's Hurricane?" Bart blurted out immediately, attempting to sit up, looking around wildly for the villain he'd been fighting. When he found there was something blocking his attempts to sit up, his eyes finally focused on Wally. "What are you doing here?"

"Stay down and try not to move," Wally ordered, taking his hand off Bart's chest. "What's it look like I'm doing?"

Bart glowered as Wally turned to the first-aid kit on the table beside him. "You don't have to be so sarcastic all the time."

Wally frowned. "Well, you don't have to be so stupid-"

"I don't need any help!" Bart declared loudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You obviously do," Wally said, reaching for the medical tape. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

"Well, I don't, so you can leave. This is my city now. Not yours. You live in Keystone."

Wally paused, looking at Bart with a raised eyebrow. "I grew up here," he said. "Central City is where Barry and I worked together."

"Why'd you move, then?"

_Why do you _think _I moved, Bart? _Wally sighed. He wouldn't understand. "I needed a change of pace," he answered, not bothering to hide the bit of contempt in his voice.

"Well, I don't want you here."

"Bart, you got blown head-first into a wall!"

"Well, that didn't mean you had to butt in!" he exclaimed.

"You've been out for two hours."

Bart pouted. "Fine. What happened? The Flash came and saved the day, I guess? You're not doing a very good job at convincing people we're not affiliated."

He had such a _weird _vocabulary for a two-year-old. "Well, who else was going to rescue you after you lost a fight with a load of bricks?" Wally asked, beginning to construct his makeshift sling over Bart's left arm to keep it in place.

"It's not my fault! There was debris everywhere and dust in my eyes and I couldn't see!"

"Since when do bad guys play fair, Bart?"

His smaller cousin scowled at him. "I didn't ask for your help."

"I know," another voice echoed from the doorway. Both of them looked up. "I did," Jay finished, striding in, looking surprising intimidating for a 97 year-old.

Wally resisted the urge to throw a smug face at Bart – he wasn't that immature, no, _really _– and instead said, "Jay! It's been a bit. Happy birthday! Sorry I couldn't make it. School starting back up and all. You know, you don't look a day over 96.99 at all."

Jay sent him a smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Thanks for coming, Wally."

"No problem," he answered, standing up. A little inconvenient, maybe, but not a problem. "Just keep him still for a few more hours and I'm pretty sure he will be just fine. Call me if his left shoulder keeps bothering him." He could tell Bart was probably mocking him behind his back, but he didn't care. "Well, you guys look like you're itching for a pep-talk, so I'd better be going."

Jay looked at him seriously. "Wally, are you sure you don't want to-"

"Well, I really would, but I think you might be better off without me," Wally said quickly, side-stepping Jay and leaving the Garricks' spare guest room. "I'm kind of busy, anyways. I'll see you around!"

As soon as he was out of danger of being called back in, he sighed and slowed down. Joan was out with Aunt Iris, so she wasn't around. Wally wasn't quite sure why he'd brought Bart to the Garricks' house instead of Iris's apartment. Jay just asked him to, so he did. The thing with Bart's collar bone was going to bother him, though. What he wouldn't do for an x-ray machine, or better yet, x-ray vision…

He frowned. Didn't his old KF goggles have an x-ray sensor on them? The Garricks took a lot of Uncle Barry's old stuff when he died. Would they might have a pair? They wouldn't mind if he just looked around in the attic, would they?

He decided, because it was for Bart's sake, that no, they probably wouldn't.

Bart had been running around Central City as the resident hyperactive twelve-year-old for a couple months now. He called himself Impulse (who knew where he came up with that) and reported to Jay. Wally wasn't sure it was the best of situations – Jay was old, and had to rely on calling in other help when Bart was in trouble – but it was the best one they had come up with.

The media was still having a field day – first on the arrival of "Kid Flash" with a new red and white costume, then on the fact that "Kid Flash" was actually Impulse and he and the Flash were never seen together, and then that Impulse was running around Central City by himself. Now, after today, they were probably going to think that Impulse and Flash were working together after all. Which they were not.

Dick was probably still furious with him. Roy had kicked his ass, on account of how he had shared all his secrets and Wally said nothing. M'gann and Connor called once, although the conversation was mostly Meg squealing about how cute Bart was. The Justice League was mixed. Some were mad that he let Bart out on the streets, some were mad that he wasn't being careful enough with Bart, some were confused at the fact that he was refusing to train Bart, and a good portion of them were just amused and took the opportunity to poke fun at him every chance they got.

He finally spotted a box labeled "Wally's Secret Stuff," hidden and collecting dust in a dark back corner. Pulling it out, he found a bunch of his old Kid Flash stuff. Costumes, padding, old souvenirs. There! A spare set of goggles. They looked pretty new, too – he must have gotten them just before he quit. He quickly grabbed them, put the box back, and started back down the stairs.

He paused outside the door to Bart's room. He could hear voices floating out into the hall. "I know," Bart was saying.

"Then you should know not to take all of these unnecessary risks."

"But… I don't want to seem like a wimp."

"Bart, you don't have to prove anything to anybody."

Now probably seemed a good time to hop into the conversation as any. "I…" Wally started, coming in the doorway, freezing when the pair of them looked up at him. He completely forgot what he was going to say. Something… x-rays…it didn't really matter, did it? Instead, he just held out the goggles in front of him awkwardly. "These are for you," he said to Bart. "So dust doesn't get in your eyes."

"I don't want anything from you," Bart objected automatically, but his curiosity obviously won out as he quickly snatched the gift from Wally's hand. "What is it?"

"They were mine," he answered indirectly as he quickly backed out of the room. He saw a look of surprise cross Bart's face before he turned around. Had that been the wrong thing to say?

It couldn't have been too bad. Goggles were an instant addition to Impulse's costume. (Not that he was paying attention, or anything. Because the Flash _does not _work with Impulse.)


	7. Step 7

A/N: New chapter, finally here. Another big thank you to my beta, Mahlia. I don't own _Young Justice. _Review?

(On an unrelated note, I've been hearing things abbout the DC Reboot. Is it true they're killing of Wally?)

* * *

><p><strong>Step 7: Let him grow.<strong>

**Example A:**

It was times like this that made Wally sure that Bart saw him as little more than a field medic.

"Well?" Bart demanded, hovering over Wally's shoulder. "What do you think?"

"He's going to be fine," Wally repeated for what must have been the hundredth time. Bart huffed at the generalness of the statement, disappearing and reappearing a second later with an apple that had been resting on the counter in Wally's kitchen. Bart also saw Wally as a venue for food, but he saw mostly everyone and everything as that, so it didn't count.

"How about now? This apple's really bruised. You need to be more careful with your food."

"You need to stop going through my food."

Bart shrugged. "You should really get some churros. I've heard they were very good."

It was from comments that these that led Wally to the conclusion that Bart had spent the day in Mexico, and not simply "in the neighborhood," as he had told Wally when Bart arrived in his apartment bearing a patient in his arms.

"And piñatas. They have candy in them. I could really go for some gummy bears right now. Or Peeps. Where do marshmallows come from? I heard they were from horse hooves. That's not true, is it? Why's he still asleep? Isn't that bad?"

"I drugged him," Wally said casually. "Don't think I could deal with two of you at once."

"Drugs? What drugs? You know drugs usually have a bad connotation to them, Wally. Especially to public schools. Aren't drugs bad? Is Speedy okay with it?"

Wally chuckled, remembering his own school days. "Nah. Roy won't mind. Well, actually, he would, but he won't because he won't find out. Got it?"

Bart frowned. "No. Why would Roy mind? W-"

Wally cut him off before he could continue rambling. "Roy's had problems with drugs."

"What kind of problems?"

He gave Bart a look. "Somebody close to him died because of them. Just don't mention it to Roy or Speedy or anyone that would tell him or Speedy. Got it?"

Yes, Wally was in fact aware that Speedy was Connor Hawke, son of Oliver Queen, ward to Roy Harper. He just wasn't sure if Bart knew that fact. You never could tell with Bart.

"Anyways, can you go run and grab Speedy a change of clothes? I'd like-" Bart was already gone. Depending on whether he grabbed Connor a set of his own cloths or ran to California to Connor's house, Wally had anywhere from 30 seconds to 10 minutes to himself.

He looked back down at Speedy. Flash and Speedy had met twice before. The first time, Roy had kicked his butt for not telling him about Bart when he had shared everything. The second time, he had just been escorting Bart on a little sidekick play-date thing, even though Bart _was not _Wally's sidekick. There was just no other speedster around to do it. Anyways, while he had no idea what Connor thought of him, he had a decent impression of the boy. He seemed quiet, at first, but he quickly grew more friendly towards Bart. Apparently he had an aptitude for trouble as well – of course he would, if he was being raised by Roy - as he and Bart had snuck off to Mexico together. Wally wondered vaguely if Roy knew; there was no way Iris or Jay or Joan did, they never would have approved.

Shoot, Roy. He should probably get around to calling him to say that Wally had his adoptive brother. If he wanted to, he could even use his Justice League communicator, as Roy had just recently joined. A lot of people were wondering about that, why Roy was joining now, when he had always worked solo even after Ollie's death. Wally had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with Speedy.

Connor had decided to change the color scheme of Speedy's costume, probably after his father. Everything that was red on Roy's old uniform was now a hunter green, although he still had the yellow accessories, including the hat (with an, interestingly enough, red feather on it). Why Speedy and Impulse had thought it was a good idea to run around Mexico, Wally had no clue. He only knew that Connor had somehow ending up with a mild sprained ankle and a cut on his head that wasn't as bad as it looked.

"I'm back! So when do you think that Speedy will wake up? Do you think it will snow soon? It's February."

"Hi, Bart." Wally stood up. "Anytime, now. Listen, I've got to go on patrol. There are some things I need to check into."

"Oh," Bart said, stopping his chatter abruptly, wide eyes glancing from Wally to Speedy. "Um…"

"Yeah," Wally replied. Why did things feel so _awkward _all of a sudden? "You don't…want to go with me, do you?"

Bart seemed surprised. "Grife," he said, "No. I've, um, got to stay here with Speedy."

"Good," Wally said, relieved, but then realized how that must have sounded. "Well, just…lock the door on your way out, wouldn't you?"

Bart nodded and answered, "Sure," but he was looking around Wally's living room again, looking for something else for entertainment. "Hey Wally, do marshmallows really explode when you put them into microwaves?"

"Yes," he answered, walking towards the door, fiddling with his Flash ring. "Don't try it. Bye."

**Example B:**

It was times like this that made Wally sure that Bart saw him as little more than a way into the Justice League.

_"Recognized: Kid Flash. B03. Warning: Stranger. Identify or trigger defense system."_

_"Idiot," _Wally hissed, shooting a glare at Bart, who'd frozen. Apparently, he hadn't anticipated the security system when he'd broken through one of the walls. Of course, this was Impulse. He never thought ahead to anything. Wally crossed to the computer that dominated one of the walls of Mount Justice. God, he hadn't been in here since…since he was 18.

"_Warning: Stranger. Identify or trigger defense system."_

"Yeah, yeah," Wally grumbled, searching his brain for how to disable this thing. "Um… Mount Justice Override-WW-3?"

_"Recognized: Kid Flash." _Man, they needed to update this thing. _"Identify Stranger."_

"Reprogram. Recognize Impulse, C01." Bart was staring at Wally with an awed look on his face. He hoped Bart knew this was just so the cave didn't kill him. They would not be spending any time here."

_"Input data."_

Wally sighed. "Darn it. This is all your fault."

"That is _so _cool," Bart cried, rushing over to stand next to him. "Why is it calling you Kid Flash? Haven't you fixed it? Is this really where Young Justice's headquarters is?"

"Was," Wally corrected, typing in the minimum information he could on Impulse the computer would accept. "Hey, how much do you weigh?"

"With or without my shoes?"

Wally shot his cousin a strange look. "With."

"115."

"Wow. Midget."

"Hey!" Bart shouted indignantly, placing his hands on his hips, something jingling in his left hand as he did so.

Wally looked down, remembering the reason that he'd chased Bart to Mt. Justice in the first place. "I don't owe you anything. Give me back my keys!"

Bart squeezed Wally's key ring in his hands and hid it behind his back. "Nope. Not yet. You still need to listen to me."

"You could have talked to me back at Keystone," Wally replied scornfully, glancing back at the computer screen. Blood type? Bart's blood, which Wally had personally examined, seemed to be something like ABC neutral. It had reacted with just about every antigen he mixed it with. Silly future-people. He typed in O negative and hoped Bart never donated.

"No. You would have been distracted at home. Besides, what would be a better place to talk about reforming the team than-"

Reforming? What did he mean, reforming? "NO," Wally interrupted loudly. "No way." He tapped enter on the computer screen before turning around to Bart. "Not a chance."

"You didn't let me finish!" Bart exclaimed, stepping backwards out of Wally's reach. "I said I wanted to reform your old team."

"No," he repeated again bluntly.

"Why not? You got a team, and you were fine," Bart insisted.

"It was _not _fine. Look how much trouble we got into-"

"And look at what you accomplished!" Bart interrupted. "Come on. There's me, Speedy, and Robin. You said Wonder Woman had a younger sister that was a teenager. And the Doom Patrol just took in that shape-shifter-"

"No," repeated Wally.

"It's not that far-fetched! Look, all you have to do is mention it to the Justice League-"

"And they'll say no," Wally concluded.

"_Wal-ly!_ It's not fair!"

"Life's not fair." Wow. He hated himself for saying that line.

Bart glared at him for all he was worth. "Why do you never even consider anything I have to say?"

"Why do you only focus when you're arguing with me?"

"You hate me because of me _attention span?" _Bart shrieked. _"_I'm obviously fine, Wally! I've been Impulse for a year! Do you know how long a year is for me?"

"I don't _hate_ you," Wally commented dryly.

"Then just listen to me. Our team will have a Robin, we'll have me, which is better than a Kid Flash, we'll have an archer, we'll have a meta, we'll even have a _green shape shifter. _Just like your team."

Wally swallowed, ignoring the fact that they forgot Aqualad. It would be cruel to ask another Atlantean to join the team. "And where did you get all of this information about my old team?"

"Robin," Bart supplied shortly, crossing his arms.

Ah. Robin could do anything. Wally changed tactics. "Look, Bart, even if I said anything, it still wouldn't happen. I don't have as much influence as you seem to think I do."

Bart glowered at him. "That's a lie. You're the Flash."

"I'm twenty-three. The rest of the League is in their thirties."

"You forgot Red Arrow."

"He doesn't count."

"Why not? You can't just change the rules like that!"

"Yeah, I can. I'm the Flash. I'm the fastest man alive."

"Well, I'm the fastest boy alive. Just like you used to be. And if you got this chance, I deserve to have it too! What's the worst that could happen?"

"You could die!" Wally shouted. "Don't you get that?"

Bart glared at him. "Not really, Wally. How am I safer running around Central City by myself than I am with a team?"

"Because the team's not experienced enough," Wally insisted. "And you're not alone in Central. You have me!"

Bart jumped away from Wally. "I have you?" he shouted, waving his arms in the air. "How on earth do I have you? You don't patrol with me! You don't teach me anything! You hate me! You ignore me whenever you can!"

"I don't hate you!" he responded back. "You're an annoying little pip-squeak, but I don't hate you! Get that into your head! If you're going to be a member of this family, you need to learn-"

"What family?"

"You and me! The Flash family! That's what they call groups of superheroes with the same power who work with each other."

"But we don't! We're not a family!"

"Yes, we are!"

"Prove it!" Bart cried, turning away. He'd taken a step towards the door when the teleporter lit up and the computer announced for the second time that day _"Recognized: Batman. 02. Warning: Stranger. Identify or trigger defense system."_

Wally groaned. "Great," he started sarcastically, as Batman and Robin stepped into the hall, the former looking incredibly hostile.

"Flash," Batman growled. "What is the meaning of this?"

_Prove it. _The words stung in Wally mind. "Oh, nothing much," he said with that distinct light tone of voice that means there most definitely is something much. "Just the revival of the Young Justice team."

Batman narrowed his eyes, Robin asked, "What?" and Bart's eyes widened so much they were in danger of falling out of his head.

"Yeah, didn't you hear?" Wally continued. "Impulse will be on it, Robin will be on it, Speedy too, Diana's little sister, and Changeling from the Doom Patrol."

Aw man, the Bat-glare. Good thing he was trained in ignoring it. "You have no-" Batman started.

"Authority?" He finished, shrugging. "Overrated. It's such an insignificant thing in the long run, anyways. Besides, I'm the Flash, the fastest man alive. I can do anything. Hey, do you think you could plug Robin into the computer before it does its best to annihilate him? Thanks, Bats."

Bart practically threw himself at Wally, wrapping his arms around his older cousin's stomach and burying his head in the front of the Flash costume. Wally tugged his keys out of Bart's hand and started towards the door, Impulse still attached to him. "Anyways, do you think you could ask Nightwing about being the one who assigns these guys missions? I bet he'd be perfect for the job. See ya around!"

As soon as they were outside the mountain (he decided against the zeta-beam, Bart would ask waaay to many questions in front of Batman) he demanded, "Bart, let go of me," pushing the younger speedster away by the face.

"Youwon'tregretthisWallyIpromisewe'llbethebestteam-"

"Whatever," he grunted, started jogging back home, not waiting for Impulse to catch up. There was going to be hell to pay later. Pure hell.

"Thisissocoolyoure' thebestever! WereallyareafamilynowsoIlove-"

"Shut up," Wally snapped. "Or else I'll turn back around and tell Batman I was hallucinating and not to listen to anything I said."

Bart wrinkled his nose. "But you told him you were hallucinating last week."

Wally shrugged. "Eh. Doesn't mean he won't pretend to buy it. He already thinks I'm crazy anyways. I'm pretty sure he plans to throw me in Arkham Asylum with the Joker once I stop being useful."

Bart visibly perked up. "Wow. Have you ever met the Joker?"

"Yeah," he said slowly. "It was a long time ago, though. In a galaxy far, far away." He cast an amused eye on Bart, who was looking really interested in the whole thing. "I was wearing _those _goggles," he finished dramatically, pointing to Bart's face.

"Really?" Bart squealed.

Wally snorted. "No. Stupid kids. They'll believe anything."

"I heard that!"

"Hallucinations, Bart. Hallucinations."

**Example C:**

It was times like this that made Wally think that Bart saw him only as a sort of entertainment.

"Hey, Wally, I know I missed the graduation ceremony but I still want to say congratulations on becoming a Doc- _oh my god."_

Wally and his girlfriend sprang apart on the couch. "Bart," Wally croaked, straightening his shirt while Linda attempted to fix her mussed hair. "What have I told you about just inviting yourself over?"

_"My eyes," _Bart moaned, clutching his hands over them as he stumbled back and forth into the door and the wall. _"My eyes. They're burning."_

"We were just kissing, Bart."

"Ew!" he cried. "Ew! Eeeeewwww! Cooties! Ew!"

"Bart," Wally complained again. Bart cautiously peaked out one eye from behind his hands. "Is it safe?" he asked timidly.

Wally rolled his eyes. "Linda, this is my cousin, Bart Allen. Bart, this is Linda, my girlfriend."

Bart uncovered his eyes the rest of the way, hands going to smooth down his obnoxiously long hair before getting stuffed in his pockets. "Nice to meet you," he said sheepishly, shyly examining her.

"It's nice to meet you too," she said, an amused glint in her eyes. "I'm glad to meet any family of Wally's."

"Yep," Bart agreed, scuffing a foot against the ground. "Well, he's Dr. West now. Graduated medical school and everything. I just came over to say congrats and stuff. Well, see you."

His hand was already on the doorknob when Linda stood up. "Bart, how old are you? Where are you going? You shouldn't be traveling by yourself."

Bart glanced at Wally, a clearly wicked look on his face. "I'm four," he said, grinning at the expression on Wally's face. "Teen."

Behind Linda's back, Wally mouthed _"Don't you dare try anything you little-"_

"And the train to Central's only about an hour ride," he said, shrugging, in such a believable manner that anyone would think he actually rode the train often. That little liar.

Linda gaped. "You rode a train from Central for an hour by yourself just to say congratulations and leave again?"

Bart shrugged again. "Well, you two looked kind of busy."

"Not too busy for family, Bart," Wally finally interrupted in an attempt to save the conversation, grinding his teeth. Linda threw him a smile, which he returned, ignoring Bart who was snickering behind Linda's back. Wally made a note on his mental to-do list to research discreet methods of murder. Bart was going to _die. _

**Example D:**

As time passed by, Wally really didn't see Bart that often.

Slowly, and for the sole reason that Bart Allen really is one of Wally's closest remaining relatives at this point, pictures start to invade his apartment. First it's just this hilarious picture of a livid Bart dressed as a cheerleader that Jay had caught on camera on his fridge. He kept there just because it made him laugh. Really.

Then there's one of Bart and the rest of Young Justice (in civies, of course) lined up and smiling like some sort of class picture taped to the wall next to his desk at work, to show to any curious people who ask. _Yep, see that short one? That's my cousin. He goes to boarding school in New England. _

Then more and more pictures start littering his apartment, blending in with the many piles of crap he owns. Pictures added on Christmas or birthday cards; pictures Jay and Joan collect and send off in little photo albums; pictures other members of the league email him because it's just a really good picture of the kids and they want their mentors to see them, and if the flying girl's mentor is Wonder Woman and the detective boy's mentor is Batman, then the hyper kid obviously belong to Flash.

Through the pictures, Wally could kind of figure things out about his cousin. He loved to eat. His hair refused to be tamed with a comb. His best friends were Tim and Connor, who he seemingly went little places without. There were pictures of them playing video games, training, having squirt gun fights, goofing off (okay, mostly Bart looking stupid, Con laughing, and Robin trying not to smile), and basically everything else teenage boys would do together. There were even a suspicious number of pictures that looked like the boys were at rock concerts – although, if one was a millionaire's son, there probably wasn't much he couldn't arrange for his friends.

And, although a little less frequent (hero pictures were discouraged for obvious *cough BATMAN cough* reasons) were pictures of Impulse, Robin, and Speedy doing things like jumping off buildings, arguing with Wonder Girl and Beast Boy (and later Cyborg and Aquagirl as they joined the team), taking out a robot or two.

In person, Wally and Bart met a lot less often, only for the occasionally family picnic or world crisis and stuff like that. Wally was grateful. Pictures were probably the most Impulse he could handle at this point. He was a new doctor, busy enough trying to get his license to practice and balance Flash besides coping with a hyperactive, spastic idiot. Besides, Bart belonged to Jay.

Wally knew he should stop wondering where to get his own hyperactive, spastic idiot.


	8. Step 8A

A/N: This step, as we're getting into the plot of the story, is actually being divided into a few chapters because of the length, so stay tuned. I would like to thank my beta and all my great reviewers. You guys rock.

I do not own _Young Justice _or any other DC characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Step 8: Reconcile<strong>

Bart knew he always _could _take the zeta-beams to Mount Justice, but sometimes he really just liked to run the thousand or so miles there, even though he knew that would just give him a disadvantage in training today. But running –_ running_ running, not the running-in-a-fight-or-training-or-otherwise-running-with-a-purpose-running – really helped him relax. Besides, running usually fixed his problems. Take what happened just now, for instance. One second he was fighting with Grandma after he got home from a fight with some robot-thing with lasers. The next he was out the door. Problem solved.

Except, not really. He could only hide out at Mount Justice so long. The thing was, he didn't understand what Grandma's problem was. They always argued about the same thing.

_ "That was so dangerous, Bart! Why didn't you call for help?" _

_ "And call who? Who could keep up with me?" _

_"Wally!" _

_ "I don't need his help! I'm fifteen, Grandma!" _

_ "I'm sure you don't, Bart, but don't you ever want it?" _

_ "No way, I'm Impulse! I work solo!"_

_ "Bart, you don't even have Jay anymore, not since his stroke. Maybe villains would stop going after you so much if you had back-up."_

_ "I don't need help. I don't want help. I manage on my own."_

_ "You manage, Bart, but you could be better-"_

_ "I'm leaving."_

At which point he'd run back out of the house. The thing about running-runningwas that sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between running to somewhere and running away.

Impulse grunted as he slammed into something. Hard enough that it hurt _a lot _and caused him to stumble backwards. It must have been an invisible force field, he deduced, reaching a hand forward blindly to feel for it again. Before he could find it again, something grabbed him around the middle, pinning his arms to his sides. He struggled wildly as the huge red hand lifted him into the air, crushing him and digging the sharp ends of its fingers into his sides. It finally stopped moving and relaxed a fraction enough to allow him to breathe again some thirty feet in the air. When he gulped down enough air to be able to see straight again, he noticed a boy floating there as well. Doing nothing else, just floating there. Maybe he could fly like Wondergirl. Maybe he was just lost and needed directions-

The boy was frowning. "This isn't right," he said as he examined Bart, a whine in his voice. "You're not Kid Flash."

Bart groaned and flopped against the hand. Why was that always the first thing people said to him? "Heck right I'm not. Kid Flash doesn't exist anymore. It's Impulse. I-M-P-pulse. Can you let me go?"

The boy's eyes bugged out of his head at Bart's words. "No! You're the small fast one! You're supposed to be Kid Flash! No, no, no!"

Bart rolled his eyes. "Kid Flash grew up, genius. Now let me go!"

The boy scowled at him. "I am Klarion the Witch Boy! You can't talk to me like that!"

"Witches are girls, stupid. That's what Red Arrow always calls his dates. And yes, I can!" Bart shouted back at him, and started struggling against the hand again. "I can do whatever I want!" He racked his brain for escaping techniques, which he had to admit wasn't usually his strong point. Usually he was to fast to be caught to have anything to escape from. Um…vibrate through it? He tried, by the hand seemed to sense what he was doing and all he received from his efforts was a nasty shock. That was no good.

Klarion was smirking at him. "Kid Flash grew up, you say."

Bart scowled back at him. "No duh. Where have you been the last ten years?"

"Ten years?" Klarion echoed. He narrowed his eyes at Bart, and the hand suddenly squeezed him a lot tighter. "Tell me where he is now."

"No," Bart gasped, struggling for breath.

"Tell me!"

Bart coughed, choking for air. Klarion yelled wordlessly, and the hand dropped Bart instantly. He dropped ten feet in the air, gasping for breath, before the hand snatched him again and took him back up, closer to the witch boy.

Klarion was frowning. "I can make you tell me where he is," he said slowly. The hand suddenly turned ice cold.

"N-n-n-n-no y-you can't," Bart argued, teeth chattering. The hand returned to a neutral temperature.

"I could," insisted the boy. From close up, Bart could see the details that differentiated Klarion from a human. His skin was sickly pale, his hair was unnatural, his fingers ended in sharp points. When Klarion suddenly smiled, it looked evil. "So you know the old Kid Flash?"

"Unfortunately," Bart retorted.

"And he knows you."

"Everybody knows that!" he yelled, twisting his body around in the hand. "Now let me go, you creepy little-"

"I learned new tricks while I was gone," Klarion interrupted, ignoring Bart. "Do you know how Nabu-

"Isn't that where Jar-Jar Binks is from?"

Klarion paused. "Nabu, the Lord of Order residing in this plane?"

"Um…that's what I said?"

"Interesting." Klarion paused to consider this. "I will have to eliminate this Jar-Jar Binks after I destroy Kid Flash."

"Kid Flash doesn't exist any more! We've been over this!"

"ANYWAYS, Nabu has complete and utter control of his host body once it is wearing his helmet. Before, I let Teekl wander around as he pleased. Now, I was going to use an inanimate object they would never find. But a host body…" he took a step in the air towards Bart. "Impulse, your name was?" His corners of his lips rose in a cruel grin. "How fitting."

Bart tensed as the hand squeezed him again. "Nuh-uh. No way. What are you doing?" The witch boy suddenly dissolved into a fog of red gas that flew towards him. Bart started thrashing. "NO! Stop! Let me go right now or I'll- I'll tell Robin, he's really scary, when he's mad at you all he ever does is stare at you until you run away screaming. I know, it happens to me all the t-"

Being possessed is like being suffocated. No, worse, like every bit of control you have over your body is being smothered out of existence, until all you have is your mind. Somewhere deep-down Bart knows it's worse for him because his mind can process so many more things at a time and now he has no way to express his thoughts. Thoughts like _I should have called for help when the hand dropped me, that cloud looks like a squirrel, now I'm going to be late for training, I'm so stupid, I hope being possessed isn't fatal, I'm hungry, I wonder if he'll take over my brain too, Tim will never trust me again if I reveal his secret identity._

The hand gently lowered Impulse to the ground before vanishing into thin air. Impulse shook his head to clear it, blinked a few times so his red eyes would fade down to black, and searched his new mind for the information he was looking for. Klarion was immediately bombarded by a load of knowledge he hadn't anticipated. Why, Impulse wasn't his only name. He was also Bart Allen, but Bart and Impulse were completely different people. He led a double life. In fact, every hero led a double life. How fun!

The Kid Flash _had _aged. He now went as Flash. Klarion tilted his head at the amount of information the new brain supplied him at the name. Wally. His enemy was named Wally. What a stupid name. Impulse, or Bart, had never heard of the Dr. Fate helmet, but it was no matter. The Wally would have it. Klarion would extract it from him painfully and then take his revenge.

Klarion smirked to himself. And the Wally would never even see it coming. No one in the universe would. In fact, he might as well have some fun while he could. In an action this body knew well, he pulled eye coverings down over his face and started to run towards Impulse's original destination. So much fun to be had.

* * *

><p>"Flash?"<p>

Wally stopped in an unnaturally dark roadway (it was only 5 PM) in between a hair salon and a tea shop he suspected was also selling drugs. Unfortunately, there seemingly wasn't anybody here tonight, so he'd have to come back sometime else. "In the middle of patrol," he said into the communicator. "Is something wrong?"

"It's Impulse," the voice – he was pretty sure it was Megan – told him.

Wally hesitated. She'd sounded a bit too serious. "How bad it is? If it's the usual Impulse nonsense, I really don't want to know."

"He's been hurt," she replied, "In a training accident. He's a little too disoriented to send home alone. Do you think you could come pick him up?"

Wally sighed. "Yeah. I'll be right over." It didn't look like anything much was going on, anyways, so it wasn't too much of a loss. Besides, this might give him a chance to laugh at Bart again. It had been too long.

Ten minutes later, he was at Mount Justice, surveying the damage. Robin seemed to be teaching Cyborg (a new member) a couple tricks on the electronic training mat. Megan was standing off to the side, the two other team members on either side of her. To her right was Speedy, looking angry with his arms crossed and hat pulled down low over his face. On her other side was Bart, who was actually sitting on the floor with his legs sprawled out in front of him, watching the match.

_"Recognized: Flash. 04."_

Megan and Speedy were the only ones who turned to see him walk in. Megan smiled. "Flash! It's been so long since I've seen you!"

He forced a smile at the fact that she couldn't call him _Wally_ and that it went against every sort of JL protocol to pull down his cowl right now even though he really wanted to. "Way too long, Miss M," he said, striding over to her.

"You should visit here more often," she said, her happiness so contagious his smile wasn't forced at all.

"Maybe," he said, casting an eye out over the room again before turning finally to Bart, who was still ignoring him. "Hey, Impulse," he said, nudging Bart's back with his foot. "Can you stand?"

Bart turned his head towards him, scowling, a massive black eye on his face. "Ouch," Wally commented. "That's a nice shiner." It must have been serious, too, if it hadn't at least started healing now. "What happened?"

Bart sent a glare through Megan's legs at his other teammate. "Speedy."

Speedy tensed his crossed arms. "He deserved it," he muttered.

"Imbecile."

"Obnoxious brag-a-bunch-"

"Name calling won't get you anywhere," Megan interrupted coolly. "Impulse and Speedy were sparring and got a bit frustrated with each other."

"He was catching all my arrows!"

"You weren't supposed to _use _arrows."

"Well, you weren't supposed to use your speed."

"What use is having all this power if I can't use it?" Bart asked, jumping up.

"Just because you're a Meta doesn't mean you're better than-"

"Of course I am-"

"Whoa," Wally interrupted, putting a hand on Bart's shoulder. Bart scowled up at him. "I think Impulse and I are going to have a little chat. Come on, let's go." He attempted to lead Bart to the zeta-beam, but his cousin wasn't moving. "What now?"

"Where are we going?" Bart demanded.

Wally gave him a funny look. "Home," he answered slowly. "Come on."

Bart paused, expression blank, before focusing on Wally again. "I don't want to go."

"What?" he asked. "Why not? I suppose you would rather stay here with the guy that socked you in the face?"

"I did not!" Speedy interrupted heatedly.

Bart gave Speedy a look of hate. "There's no way he could have got me," Bart said. "Instead he just–just-"

"Outsmarted you," finished Speedy smugly.

"That last arrow exploded! You've never done that before!"

"You've never been this much of a jerk before. I thought we were friends."

"Friends with you? I-"

Wally clamped his hand over Bart's mouth, conscious of the fact that now even Robin and Cyborg had stopped their match to watch. "We're leaving," he said quickly, dragging a struggling Bart to the door. "It was nice seeing you- Ow! Don't bite!"

"You can't restrain me, human, I'm-"

The portal, whirring to life and shifting them halfway across the country, cut off the rest of Bart's words. Wally took this as a good thing; Bart sounded even weirder today than normal – it probably had something to do with the exploding arrow in the face.

The other end of the zeta-beam let off in the Garrick's back yard in Central City. Bart couldn't go see Jay now, there were too many nurses in the Garrick's home, but he probably could tomorrow. Wally figured Aunt Iris could sort out any issues until then. "Look, do you need me to walk you home, too, or can you make it there yourself?" When his cousin didn't answer, Wally looked down to investigate. Bart had a strange, blank look on his face. "Bart?"

Bart finally looked up at him. "I don't want to go…home," he said.

Wally raised an eyebrow. "What? Why not?"

Bart scowled. "I don't _want _to. I recently had a fight with that woman. She doesn't understand anything. I want to go with you."

Wow. Who was this and what had they done with Bart? "You mean Grandma?" Wally asked, not being able to understand why Bart was talking like that.

"Let's go," Bart told Wally stiffly, walking a few steps forward. "Hurry up, let's go, let's go, let's go!"

Geez. Impatient, much? "Bart," Wally began, "I'm not sure this is such a good-"

"Come ON already," Bart groaned, turning around to glare at Wally. "I don't want to stand here and talk to you all day. Just show me the way to your house already!"

Wally wrinkled his nose. "I don't think so."

Bart stared at Wally incredulously for a second before closing his eyes, and taking a short, deep breath. "Fine," he muttered with his eyes closed. "Please. Take me to your house. Now."

He just had a fight with his Grandma and one of his best friends, Wally reasoned. They would have a talk about politeness in the morning. "Alright, Bart," he agreed, "But just for tonight."

Bart grinned smugly at him, eyes following Wally as he started slow jogging the way to Keystone. Wally made sure to look over his shoulder every so often just to make sure he didn't lose Impulse. Usually, Bart would have been zooming ahead of him. This was unusual.

He had just had a head injury, Wally reasoned again. Eventually they reached his apartment again, making sure to go fast enough that no one would see Flash and Impulse entering in. Wally shut the door firmly behind him, taking off the cowl with his other hand. "Okay, we're back. We need to talk about some of the stuff you were saying back with-"

"I'm tired," Bart interrupted loudly.

Wally stopped. "What?"

"I'm tired. I want to sleep."

He wasn't really sure how to deal with the situation, so he decided to just roll with it. Wally sighed. "Fine. The couch is yours. But as soon as you wake up, we're having that chat."

Bart nodded, not really making eye contact as he looked around the room.

Wally was just walking towards the kitchen to grab a snack before he left to finish patrol when a thought occurred to him. "Hey. Aren't you hungry?"

Bart looked back at him surprised. "Hungry…?" he repeated faintly. He glanced down at his stomach. "I suppose I should be."

_What's that supposed to mean? _Wally wondered. He handed Bart a granola bar on the way out and decided to deal with things when he got back.

* * *

><p>Klarion grinned as he watched the Wally <em>finally <em>leave him alone. Now, that stupid helmet had to be around here somewhere….


	9. Step 8B

A/N: Hey, guys. Remember me? I know it's been a while. Sorry for those of you who might have forgotten what this story is even about and will have to go back and reread things. On the bright side, I have the entire story written, so you'll be havely weekly updates from now on. Yay for that, at least?

Please review. I do not own _Young Justice, _or any other _DC _characters.

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><p>No, no, NO! It wasn't anywhere! Why was the helmet not in the entire living space? Klarion had searched <em>everywhere. <em>He overturned furniture, emptied drawers and cabinets all out onto the floor, even knocked a whole through the couch cushions to make sure it wasn't hidden in there. The helmet was _nowhere. _

Klarion picked a picture of the Wally up – it was labeled something called "drivers license" - and with a quick flare of his powers, burned it to ashes. That satisfied some of his immediate anger. Now, what was he to do? Revenge, of course. First, he would take revenge on the people the Wally worked so hard to protect. How _noble _of him to take up a costume and hide his real life. Bah. Ridiculous. It would be highly amusing to see him fail.

Secondly, if the Wally then fails to give up the helmet, he could always spoil this secret identity that he seemingly values so much. Impulse's mind supplied many instances of the Wally reprimanding him for almost giving it away.

Either way, the Wally will suffer horribly. And Klarion would gain the helmet, so he could finally rule this dimension in chaos.

* * *

><p>Wally changed into civvies back near the police station after dropping off a mugger as Flash. Instead of running back, he walked home, taking the chance to enjoy the cool night air. He couldn't really see stars tonight, because it was a big city and light pollution and all that, but in his imagination, he could almost picture where the watchtower would be.<p>

He arrived back at his apartment without a problem. He opened the door using the key he kept hidden in a compartment near the stairs. He wasn't sure what he was expecting – in the best case scenario, Bart would be sleeping on the couch – but it sure wasn't a great mound of hair blocking his front door.

"What the _hell?_" he shouted through it. "BART!" there was no reply. Grimacing, he started to wade through it, ignoring thoughts of how gross this was. It wasn't hair, thank god, he figured out. It was a bunch of wigs. They were all pretty small ones, too. A lot of them were grey.

_Toupees? Those things old guys use to cover bald spots?_

He gasped as he got through far enough to see the apartment. The place was trashed. Papers were everywhere, the furniture was scattered and broken. It was like someone had done a strip-search of the place.

Bart. Where's Bart?

A half-second search showed he wasn't anywhere in the apartment. There wasn't blood anywhere, either, which he supposed was good, but this whole thing screamed that a struggle had taken place. With a hand that definitely wasn't shaking, he grabbing his JL communicator out of his pocket. "Flash to Justice League. This is an emergency."

Someone be at headquarters, someone be there… "This is Black Canary," a voice answered. He sighed in relief. "Flash, what is it?"

"I think Impulse has been kidnapped," he said, glancing around the apartment again for some evidence he might have missed. "Um, maybe by some hair-related villain. Can you track his signal?"

There was a pause of silence on the other line. "Impulse," Canary repeated finally. "Yes, I have his signal. He's in Central City." Another pause. "About two miles north of your position. I can look into hair-themed villains, but-"

"Thanks Canary. You're the best," he interrupted, already changing back into the Flash suit. "I'll report back later." It had been less than three hours and he'd already lost Bart. He must be the worst cousin ever.

He dashed downtown, searching frantically for signs of his cousin. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. A couple drunken people passed out on the streets. An unusual amount of screams coming out of a particular nightclub…

He was getting desperate, and it was really the only unusual thing that was going on around town, so he went inside. The music seemed to be stuck on repeat for a two second period, like those old records that had a scratch on them. The only light came from a strobe light flashing too fast for comfort of any normal person, making the world look like a faulty black-and-white movie. It took a second for him to push through the crowd of people to finally see what they were talking about. His eyes registered the sight just as his ears recognized one of the screams as the word "Ghost."

Sure enough, there was a white figure seemingly fading in and out of sight at unpredictable intervals. He wasn't hurting anyone (yet), but he was terrifying the heck out of the civilians.

Wally was seething with rage. He was very tempted to start screaming at Impulse right then and there, but he really _didn't _want to be connected to that little monster, especially right now. So instead he just tackled Impulse (literally tackled, because he had to get his anger out somehow) and dragged him up to the roof. He was strangely sticky…

Wally dropped his cousin roughly on top of the roof of the nearest dozen-story building he could find. "Impulse," he growled, "What the _hell _is this!" he gestured to the front of his suit, covering in white flour. "Tell me you didn't jump in a pool of glue, roll around in some flour, and then go off pretending to be a ghost."

Bart, from under all of the flour, _smirked _at him. Bart never smirked. He didn't know how – or so Wally thought. "I just jumped in a pot of glue, covered myself in flour, and terrified the pants off of all of those people." As he finished his declaration, he cackled in glee. "They were ready to _cry! _It was hilarious."

Wally started to get this bitter taste in his mouth. "No, it wasn't. Scaring innocent people isn't funny. Would you also care to explain all the wigs currently residing in my apartment?"

If possible, Bart's grin widened. "It was my revenge upon those men who try to disguise their ugly-"

"Bald spots?" Wally interrupted defiantly.

"Yes!" Bart agreed.

Wally sighed. "Bart, people can't help that."

Bart frowned, glaring at Wally. "Well, then, they shouldn't try to flirt with women. Now they-"

"Now there's a couple hundred more bald guys in the world. I can't believe you. And dressing up as a ghost? I – not even you, Bart. You do a lot of strange things, but not like this. What was the point of scaring those people."

Impulse shrugged. "I wanted to."

"You _wanted _to?" Wally repeated. "Bart, you're a lot of things, but you're not and you've never been sadistic."

Bart took a step back, baring his teeth at Wally. "I don't take orders from _you. _I don't listen to _you. _In fact, I think _you _should start taking orders from _me._"

Wally raised an eyebrow under the cowl, crossing his arms. "Funny, Bart. That could never happen."

"Yes, it will," Bart snarled back. His hands curled into fists as he sneered, "or else I'll reveal you secret identity."

Wally gaped at Bart. "Wha –what –Bart – what the hell has gotten into you?"

Bart gave him this look, this evil look, that he'd never, ever seen on Bart's face before. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he asked. "I know all your secrets, Wally. You can't stop me."

"Don't you dare-"

Before he finished the word, Bart was gone. Wally sighed loudly, bringing a hand to his head. Advice. He'd ask Batman for advice. He had experience with Kids. He must have some words of wisdom about dealing with rogue sidekicks.

* * *

><p>"…and then he just ran off. I've never seen his act that way before, Bruce. I don't know what's gotten into him."<p>

"I do," a voice said from the stairs of the Batcave. Robin strode into the room, quickly, carting a laptop under one arm. "A demon child."

Wally shifted on his feet. "Wow, Tim. That may be a little harsh."

The third Robin glanced up at him. "I mean literally," he said, placing the laptop down next to Bruce on the computer desk and opening it up. He typed a few words in before stepping aside. "Look. This is all the evidence I gathered from the team's observations and the security cameras at Mount Justice. And here's a file from the Justice Society's old records. After cross-checking it with the League's database, I was able to come up with a list of signs, all of which Bart displayed. Different voice pattern, strange personality with violent tendencies, uncharacteristic arrogance, a change in stance and eye color-"

"Eye color?" Wally echoed, pulling his eyes away from the multitude of tables and documents on the computer screen to the boy wonder's face. Not that he'd been really looking for it, but surely he would have noticed if Bart's eyes…

"Yes," Tim affirmed, pulling up a screen shot to show. "Look. Bart's eyes are normally amber, but if you see here, they're very dark. I'd estimate black. Black eyes are common among cases of demon possession, along with red, metallics, and other bold primary or secondary colors-"

"Whoa," Wally interrupted. "Demon possession? Isn't that sort of thing limited to, I don't know, fantasy books?"

Tim paused, seemingly perturbed by the question. He exchanged a look with Bruce. "I don't know," he said, "but it's my best guess. I mean, I thought my evidence…"

"It speaks for itself," Bruce said. "Excellent work." Over Tim's head, he sent a glare at Wally, who sighed. This whole fiasco would probably to reinforce in the dark knight's head how irresponsible and stuff Wally was. Whatever. The point was that Bart was in trouble and needed help.

"But out of anyone, why would a demon attack Bart?" Wally questioned. "It doesn't make sense. He's not the most powerful, and he's certainly not the easiest to impersonate…"

Tim shrugged. "Maybe he thought nobody would notice. And Bart does have a certain degree of freedom the rest of us don't. He covers an entire city by himself."

"I need you to think," Bruce told Wally, narrowing his eyes. "Does Bart have any sort of magic user with a revenge motive?"

Wally searched his mind. "Not that I know of…"

"Well, then, do you?"

He paused, taken aback. "Me? Why would somebody possess Bart to get to me?"

Bruce and Tim exchanged another look. "It's widely speculated that you and Impulse are somehow related, or at least that you trained him before he went into action," Bruce explained in a monotone fashion.

"What? Why-"

"You have the same powers and work in the same geographical area," Bruce snapped. If Batman rolled his eyes, he was probably doing so now.

Wally frowned. "I don't usually see a lot of magic people. They're not really my area. Nobody with that much power, anyways."

"Not anyone?" Bruce questioned.

Wally went through his mental catalog of scary villains. "No one magic, not since… the time of Kent Nelson's death."

Tim looked interested at this, but Bruce just demanded, "We need a name, at least. The murderer of Kent Nelson."

The name. The name of that witch boy. After all these years of trying to block the memory out… "Klarion," Wally answered finally. "Lord of Chaos. But Dr. Fate took him out when he killed his familiar, that cat thing, and there wasn't a cat or any animal anywhere near Bart."

Bruce glared at him, and then turned away towards the Bat-computer. "I didn't say that was the answer, Flash. It's just a lead. Now get out of my city, I have other cases to work on. And I believe you have a possessed child to catch."

"Yeah, I do. Thanks for all of your help, Bats." He answered slowly, pulling his cowl back up. He knew it was pointless to wait for a response from Bruce, so he continued, "you too, Rob." Tim nodded in return. Wally flashed a smile at him – that Robin really was a smart kid – before zipping away.

He had a cousin to save.

* * *

><p>"Impulse? Impulse! Impulse, where are you? Come back! I want to talk!"<p>

Normally – well, not that he normally went looking for Bart, but normally he wasn't that hard to find. If Wally had ever wanted to find him, he'd be at school, or his house, or with his teammates, or on the news fighting some villain. He was slightly predictable that way.

"What do you want, Wally?"

They didn't usually meet in the middle of a street in New York City, with Wally only being able to pinpoint him there by the tracker in his suit. Taxis beeped at them while Wally spun around and snatched Impulse by the arm, causing the boy – _there was no way it was really a demon, Bart was just having an off day _ – to call out a curse while Wally dragged him out to the countryside.

He stopped in the middle of a park in some suburban town. There wasn't anyone nearby except for a few children on a playground. "You should call me Flash while I'm in uniform."

Bart wrenched his arm away and glared. "Wally West. What do you want? Have you finally come to your senses?"

Wally bit his lip, reaching out to Bart's face and tilting his chin upwards before the boy could react. "Look, I'm sorry if I haven't been the best cousin ever, but-"

His eyes.

Bart's eyes were yellow.

His eyes…

_His eyes were black. _

"-you're not Bart," the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them. The eyes widened and Impulse pulled away, frowning. Wally just stood there for a second, shocked. _Robin was right. Holy crap, Robin was right. Bart's being possessed. _

Impulse, or whatever was controlling him, seemed to need only a second to compose itself as well. Impulse smiled slightly, remarking, "Very good, Wally. It took you long enough to figure it out."

"You're not Bart," he repeated dumbly, still unable to believe it.

He smirked. "Klarion. We meet again."

_He possessed Bart to get to me. He used Bart to get to me. Klarion. Klarion. _"Murderer," he accused, making sure not to voice his panicking thoughts out loud, mind racing instead to the last time they met.

Klarion cackled. "You make it sound like a bad thing." He danced out of reach as Wally tried to snatch his arm again. "Stupid earthling. Now, I want the Helmet of Fate, and you're going to give it to me."

"The Helmet…." Wally repeated, and then started to scoff. "Alright. Now you're really crazy. First of all, I wouldn't give you anything anyways, and secondly, I don't know why you think I have access to something that powerful. So-"

"You're going to give me the Helmet," Klarion ordered. He paused, his face suddenly changing from anger to a sickening smile. It was unnerving to be watching it on Bart's face. "Or else," he finished simply.

"Or else what?" Wally asked suspiciously, the question filling him with dread. By the time he usually came to this point of the conversation with a villain, he was usually laughing or in really deep doo-doo. He had the feeling this was the second situation.

Just then, a rumbling noise filled the air. As Klarion looked down at the body he was inhabiting, Wally could only conclude it was Bart's stomach. "This body does seem to require an overly large amount of fuel, doesn't it?" Klarion said, almost conversationally.

Wally sped over and grabbed Klarion (lightly, because it was still Bart) by the neck. "Listen," he ordered darkly, "If _anything _happens to him-"

"Ow," Klarion interrupted, with a grin that showed off way too many teeth. "My neck."

"I'm serious."

Klarion smirked. "Let go of me and go get the helmet."

"Over my dead body.

"And over Bart's?" Klarion asked, his tone getting quieter. "I will get what I want. Now let go of me or else I'll refuse to breathe."

Wally glared and Klarion-Impulse from under the cowl. He knew the human body didn't work that way, that there was no way physically possible to suffocate yourself without aid. Then again, who knew what a demon could do? Klarion kept Bart's face blank, instead just not taking in any air for one second..._two seconds…three…._

Wally released Impulse's neck, because Bart was a speedster and speedsters need as much extra oxygen as food to keep them going. Impulse immediately sucked in a quick breath, simultaneously taking a few steps back.

"One week." Klarion said, eyes darting all over, from Wally to the horizon and back again. "You have one week to give me the helmet or – or your cousin dies. Understand? And don't try to catch me earlier, or else I can just run straight off a bridge." He gulped, seeming to gain more confidence as he did so. "I have the upper hand. I can do anything I want, but you can't hurt me without hurting Bart. So you have to do whatever I want. The helmet. One week." He turned quickly, glancing over his should a last time. "Or else." He sped away.

Wally let him go. If he needed to locate him, there was always the tracker in the goggles that Bart still wore. As long as Klarion didn't do anything stupid…

_Like kill Bart's body…_

Wally couldn't see clear way out of this one. He hated magic. And of all the people Klarion could have taken over, why Bart? Bart was just…just his cousin, his baby cousin…

Well, first things first. Saving the kid, then defeating the monster.


	10. Step 8C

A/N: Thanks everyone who reviewed last chapter! I appreciate all of them, as well as the new readers as well. As this story was written months ago, I'm declaring AU from episode 16ish. Warnings: minor swearing and a bad cliffhanger at the end. (The last paragraph or so is a preview for the next chapter.)

* * *

><p>I do not own <em>Young Justice <em>or any other _DC _characters.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Clark. I was just wondering – do you think you could direct me to the, um, Helmet of Fate? I <em>know <em>it's stashed up here in the Watchtower."

Superman swiveled around in his chair away from the monitors (it had been a quiet day, anyways) to face his colleague. "I can't say I know where it is off the top of my head," he answered. "Why?"

Wally rubbed the back of his neck through the cowl. "I kind of need to borrow it. And trade it for my cousin's soul. So-"

"What?"

"Maybe you could just let me onto your account on the computer?" Wally asked. "Somehow I don't have clearance to enter the storage vaults. I can access every single batweapon in the armory, all the transport locations, and secret files on every single person that ever existed, but I'm not allowed into the storage vaults."

Superman replied, "That's because you would clog it up with all your souvenirs."

"So Bats is allowed to be a packrat and I'm not? How is that fair?"

"He's in charge," Superman told him in a dismissive way. "What was it you needed with the Helmet of Fate again?"

Wally waved the notion away. "Oh, nothing much. I'll have it back in no time at all, really. All I need is-"

"Flash," Superman interrupted, finally settling Wally down. "What's wrong? You seem jumpy- jumpier that usual, at least."

Wally weighed his options. One, he could try to laugh the comment off, or two, he could get serious and let the Kryptonian in on the situation. He decided to trust his teammate. "Well, Impulse got himself possessed by an evil demon child, and Klarion's demanding the Helmet for ransom."

When Superman was still looking at him like he had four heads, Wally sighed and reflected that option number one may have been the better choice.

* * *

><p>"Let me get this straight. You want to give Klarion, one of the deadliest Lords of Chaos the League has ever encountered, the Helmet of Fate, one of the only resources we have that could help defeat him?"<p>

Wally frowned. He should have known better than to trust Superman. Somehow their little chat had evolved into a whole Original Seven meeting (minus Aquaman plus Zatana, for some odd reason, but she was being so quiet Wally didn't really care). "You forgot Bart," he objected, leaning back in his chair at the conference table. "He's kind of the point of this entire escapade."

"You're not getting the helmet," Batman said, staring at Wally with his usual intimidating look.

Wally felt his mouth drop open a bit in surprise. "Didn't you hear anything I just said? Bart's _life-"_

"Flash, _no." _Batman growled. "You're going to have to find another way."

"But – you're just going to sentence a little kid to die?"

"Would you like some help, Flash?" Wonder Woman offered. "I have had more experience with these sorts of villains."

Wally sighed, resting his head in his palm. "If you could catch him."

"Perhaps I could pitch in as well," Superman offered.

Just what he needed. Superman and Wonder Woman to bail him out. No way he would accept, of course. If he couldn't solve his own problems, then nobody would ever take him seriously in the League. He wasn't that teenage kid anymore that was always crashing into things. He was the fastest man-

Bart. He had to swallow his pride for Bart.

"That would be great," he said softly. "Thanks, everyone."

The collective League dismissed the matter and started talking about other things, leaving Wally behind as he wallowed in his own thoughts. Sure, he hadn't tried to rescue Bart without the helmet, but he'd been planning on a get-the-innocent-kid-free-first-and-worry-about-getting-the-priceless-object-back-later approach. Apparently that was wrong.

Whatever.

As long as he had his cousin back when all things were said and done, the Justice League could do whatever the hell they wanted.

* * *

><p>A day later...<em>only six days left for Bart… <em>he was summoned back to the Watchtower. Only just bothering to throw his suit on, he zeta-ed up there. He was the last one there. Again. This was becoming a habit…

"You defaced Mt. Rushmore," Batman was accusing.

"Whoa," Wally cut in, zipping over to his chair at the conference table. "What'd I miss?"

Batman glared at him. "You're late."

He shrugged. "Napping. Sorry."

"Bruce, if the children hadn't stepped in-" Wonder Woman started.

"That's enough excuses," Batman interrupted. Wide-eyed, Wally watched as Superman and WW were chastised like little kids. "You two are arguably the two most powerful beings on this planet, and you couldn't catch a child. Moreover, you couldn't stop the destruction of several important features of the western United States. This is pathetic."

Superman was looking like he was about to develop Batman Explode-O Vision, so Wally interrupted. "Wait. What happened? You guys didn't catch Bart?" He tried and failed to hide how crestfallen he felt.

"It was all over the news," Green Lantern pointed out.

"Don't watch the news. Didn't have time," Wally said quickly. He turned to all his elder members. "What happened?"

Wonder Woman grit her teeth. "I'm sorry, friend," she said. "We failed you. Your demon cousin – Kal and I underestimated him. He is faster than either of us, and he is able to vibrate through most solid matter. He saw it as a game. See how much damage he could cause with the Justice League chasing him."

She pounded her fist on the table, and Wally jumped. "His team, Young Justice, they caught up to us at Mount Rushmore. They had good intentions, but-"

"But they failed to communicate with us and the authorities," Superman finished for her. "They had a decent trap concocted, but I almost got caught in it and Impulse used it to take off half of Jefferson's face.

"And the University of Colorado," Wonder Woman finished glumly.

"He also caused several rockslides and froze the Great Salt Lake," added Manhunter.

Batman sighed. "Unfortunately, I have no choice but to move the situation to priority level one." He glanced at Wally. "Solve this problem before things become embarrassing."

"Even _more _embarrassing," Wonder Woman mumbled.

Wally looked around uncertainly at all of them. "So I still can't have the helm-"

"No."

He rolled his eyes, not that they could see behind his cowl. "You guys are ridiculous. Fine. I'm on it."

He didn't wait for any more instructions before zipping out of the room and out the door.

* * *

><p>"Impulse? <em>Impulse?"<em>

He wasn't in Keystone. Or Central City. Or Denver or Los Vegas or San Francisco or Star City or Portland or Seattle or _anywhere _so he backtracked east to Chicago and Detroit and Toledo and-

He met up with Bart (no, not Bart, _Impulse)_ on the Ohio River. Literally. Impulse was sitting on some Huck Finn–esque raft in the middle of the River. Wally was afraid it wouldn't support both of their weight.

But he stood on it anyways.

"Hey. Hey, Klarion." Wally nudged Impulse, who was lying down with sunglasses instead of his goggles on his eyes, with his foot.

Impulse sat up, moving the sunglasses to the top of his head. He grinned evilly as he did so. "For the fastest man alive, you are ridiculously slow. Goes to show the worth of men, doesn't it?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Now. Where's my helmet?"

"I don't have it," Wally growled. Somewhere in the back of his head, he wondered if he should be admitting that – but then again, it was obvious. It wasn't like there were any hiding places on his suit.

"Tisk, tisk," Klarion stated, tilting his head to the side. "It's almost like you want your cousin to die. He's really scared, you know."

Wally's heart skipped a beat. "He can hear all this?"

He didn't get a response, just Klarion's foul grin that made him feel sick to his stomach. "God," he whispered, "You sick, despicable bastard."

"Now, now," Klarion started, but then paused, a frown replacing the smug look on his face. "That…bothers you."

Wally bent down and with a surge of strength, picked up Klarion by the neck. For a moment, a split second, a look of wide-eyed panic took over the face and…

_Oh, god, Bart. I'm sorry. _

He loosened his grip just enough so Bart could breathe. Then Klarion took over again, and Wally struggled to control the anger that was surging upon him in waves. "Give Impulse his body back," he snarled, _"Now."_

"It bothers you a lot," Klarion observed, as if nothing had happened, although two hands did come up to grasp Wally's red arm. "Why?"

Wally grit his teeth painfully tight. "You took away his free will," he growled. "I don't believe you."

"I don't understand how the situation has changed," Klarion said.

Wally's grip tightened for a second. "Nothing. He has nothing. You took away everything, you _monster."_

"Put me down, it's getting difficult to breathe." Wally hesitated, but slowly lowered Klarion back to the floor. "You'd rather he was dead?" Klarion asked, brushing off the Impulse costume as his feet touched the ground. "You'd rather that he didn't exist than exist as my slave?"

He observed as Wally remained silent. "Fool," he said.

"I don't have to explain humanity to you."

"Good. Because the more I hear about this stupid species, the more I wonder why I shouldn't just kill you all now. After all, there's nothing in my way."

"Let my cousin go."

"The Helmet," Klarion demanded in return.

"I don't have it," I answered. "I can't get it. I don't know where it is. I don't even know if it still exists."

"Oh, it exists," Klarion assured me. He narrowed his eyes. "I can feel it. And until I get the Helmet back-"

"Look," Wally interrupted. "You've got the wrong guy. I can't get you the Helmet."

"That's too bad for Bart."

"You should just let him go," Wally tried persuading. "He doesn't have any other emotional attachments with people in high places. They won't care if he's dead, and that'll be no use to you."

Klarion shrugged. "That's why I'm not going to kill him."

Wally blinked at the information. "What?"

The demon turned away from Wally a took a step towards the edge of the raft. "I've changed my mind. This conversation has been…enlightening." He looked back at Wally. "Alright, Flash. Listen up. I know you could catch me if I tried to run now. But if you let me go, I won't kill your cousin."

"Come on. Haven't we played this game enough-"

"I like games!" Klarion yelled, stamping his foot to make the whole raft shake. "So what's your decision? Kill me yourself, or let me live another day in hopes of saving your cousin later? How much does he mean to you?"

Wally crossed his arms. "I don't understand."

"You don't have to," Klarion reported. "Just tell your Justice League friends that I want the helmet, and I'm going to get the helmet, and they can try to stop me but they won't succeed."

"They're the Justice League."

"I'm a magician with super speed." Klarion raised his eyebrows. "Look. I can rhyme. Every time. Like that?"

"No."

Klarion smirked. "Well, then."

Confused and a little defeated, Wally watched as Impulse raced into the distance. No closer to saving his cousin than ever.

* * *

><p><em>Montgomery, Alabama<em>

"Just in: A small town of Manchester has just been attacked by a young man in a black and green outfit. The fire set in city hall injured seven, but no one was killed. If anyone knows more about the perpetrator, they are encouraged to go to the police. In other news, Hurricane Walter is predicted to die down to a tropical storm before it hits the coast…"

_New York City, New York_

"Your usual program is being interrupted for this emergency broadcast. The hero formerly known as Impulse has gone rogue. The speedster now dresses in black and green and is extremely dangerous. Everyone is encouraged to not panic and stay put to avoid his attention. Do not approach the Empire State building or the Statue of Liberty under any circumstances. Repeat: Do not approach…"

_Providence, Rhode Island_

"The villain Intertia returned to Mount Justice today to do battle with his former teammates Robin, Speedy, Wonder Girl, Beast Boy, and Cyborg. Mount Justice, revealed to be the former secret headquarter of Young Justice, was destroyed in a similar manner of the attacks in New York that killed twenty. The Justice League was not able to apprehend the villain, but gave assurances that they were doing everything they could. Flash was not on the scene, nor has he been spotted since Inertia emerged. The Justice League has not yet given a statement about their missing comrade."

_Monterrey, Mexico_

"Tenga cuidado con el nuevo villano llamado Inertia, quien es responsable de muchos ataques en los Estados Unidos. Él puede correr muy rápido y es el responsable de muchas muertes. Este villano era anteriormente conocida como Impulse, un joven héroe que trabajó con la delincuencia adolescente lucha contra la Justicia grupo joven..."

_JLA Watchtower, Earth's Atmosphere_

"Bruce-"

"I will not have emotionally compromised member of this team running around trampling the world underfoot."

"Drugging me was uncalled for. Not to mention a huge invasion of privacy."

"I did what I see fit."

"I'm not fourteen anymore, Bruce. You won't catch Bart without me."

"And we clearly will not catch him with you, either. You are confined to the Watchtower until the problem has been dealt with."

"An indefinitely long time-out? Nice, Bruce. You know, in med school there was a word for people like you. Mentally ill."

"That was two words."

"Not the point-"

"And there are no other people like me."

"How could I forget?"

"Wally."

"What?"

"Don't try to leave the Watchtower. Please."

"That's a promise I can't make, Bruce. You know that. In fact, I'm not sure why you stopped drugging me in the first place. It certainly wasn't for sympathy."

"…"

"It was becoming dangerous for my health, right? Knew it."

_Sierra Nevada Desert, California_

"Thanks, Hal," Wally said, double-checking that the Helmet was still inside the backpack flung over his should. He must have been a sight, the Flash with an old blue kid's backpack. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

The Green Lantern nodded and crossed his arms as he hovered several feet off the ground. "Me neither, Kid," he said, a nicknamed he still retained from the days when he and Barry were close friends. "Now, I'm trusting you to get this whole thing settled. Batman doesn't think you can do it; I disagree. Don't prove me wrong, or this whole thing is going to end badly."

"I know."

Hal opened his mouth again, but hesitated. He started to fly away, but then spoke anyways. "Look. This is Barry's grandson. I know you guys aren't that close, but you need to do right by him."

"I know," Wally repeated. "Trust me, that's what I plan on doing. I've got a plan." He gestured to the backpack. "I've got a plan."

**San Francisco, California**

_ Wally stopped directly in front of him, blue shock blanket in hand, not sure whether to drape it over the cape or what. "Tim?" he said softly. "You still with me?"_

_ The boy was shaking violently. "I…I shot…I killed him. Oh my god, I killed Bart-"_

_To be continued..._


	11. Step 8D

_Previously on How to Gain a Kid Flash II-_

Hal opened his mouth again, but hesitated. He started to fly away, but then spoke anyways. "Look. This is Barry's grandson. I know you guys aren't that close, but you need to do right by him."

"I know," Wally repeated. "Trust me, that's what I plan on doing. I've got a plan." He gestured to the backpack. "I've got a plan."

_San Francisco, California_

"You were always jealous of me, Tim."

Robin didn't reply.

"A cute costume change isn't going to change that."

Robin didn't do anything, didn't move a muscle.

"I mean, I have these powers, but I don't know what to do with them. I'm just an annoying kid that can run fast. You've admitted it yourself. You've told me that if I didn't put more work in, I'd never make it as a hero."

Nothing.

Intertia leaned forward as far as he could, without moving his lower body out of its position. "You were right," he said softly. "Go ahead. Shoot me. Speedy certainly would, if I'd thrown you off a building."

This earned him a sharp jab in the knee with the shotgun in Robin's hands.

Finally, a reaction. Inertia laughed. He knew it bothered everyone who'd known Impulse to hear him laugh like that. "You're smart, Tim, you're not a coward. You know you're going to have to shoot me, or else I'm just going to kill more beings. The question is, are you going to take the easy way out and shoot out my knee so I'll never run again?" He stopped, and then started to whisper. "Or will you simply kill me yourself? You know what Bart would want you to do."

"Bart's wrong." His voice was shaking.

"He'd rather die than live without being able to run," Inertia snarled.

"If I shoot Bart while you're inside, you'll die too."

Inertia smiled sickly at Tim. "As far as you know. Of course, who ever said I wasn't suicidal?"

Another fun thing about having this body for a host has that time was super slow. Robin (real name Tim, a closely guarded secret, the memories informed him) froze for only another three seconds, but he had an eternity to think. An eternity to image the six different ways he could get out of the situation without being an injury to his body, any of which he planned on using to escape. He'd have to leave soon. He'd been able to easily defeat the group of teenagers (again) but sooner or later the adults would show up and…ew. Adults. Difficult to destroy all at once.

At least he had their attention. Now he could get somewhere. How this was getting him the helmet…he didn't know. Exactly. If he kept on destroying things, then they'd have to give it to him eventually, and _then _he would extract his revenge on the Lord of Order. Then he could take control of the universe. Or something like tha-

_Fwoosh_

He whipped his head around-

_ Crack. _

The host body reacted faster than he did, jerking onto its side to reach down to a knee that _ohmygodwasn'tthere. _Klarion quickly reasserted his control over the body, although his abilities were now minimized. Hyperactive nerve endings meant a surprising low tolerance to pain. He might be forced to leave this body, and quickly…

What little the boy's eyes were giving him was cut off by something being slammed over his head. Maybe the Robin boy had-

_Klarion. _

_ Nabu? Get out of here! I was here first!_

_ And you will also be the first to leave…_

* * *

><p>"Robin. Sedatives," Wally ordered, holding out his hand. When nothing was immediately placed into them, he looked over. The boy was clearly in traumatic shock, but there wasn't timefor that. "Robin. Sedatives. Now!" he repeated, raising his voice, jerking Robin out of his stupor long enough for the boy to retrieve some sort of capsule out of his belt with shaking hands and press it into Wally's. Wally held it up to his face, and basing his decision on how Batman's gadgets usually work, threw it on the ground. Sure enough, a gas seeped out of the broken pod. Throwing a hand up over his mouth and nose (and his other over Robin's, for good measure) he waited for Bart's jerking body to grow still.<p>

God, he was the worst cousin ever.

Doing his best not the make the injury worse, he scooped Bart up and sprinted as fast as he could to the nearest emergency room through the ambulance bay. The workers didn't seem very surprised to see him. "His knee," he blurted out, looking down at Bart.

An EMT walked up to him and started to lead him around. "Mr. Flash, we will do everything we can for your patient," she said calmly.

"He's been sedated," he started telling her, laying Bart down on gurney she indicated. His heart beat faster than ever as two doctors and a handful of nurses rushed over. He deserved special attention, it seemed. "I'm not sure how long the sedation will last. If you can, keep him under and keep the helmet on. At least one at all times. And his knee has to be repaired as fast as possible, or else it will start to heal on its own and heal all wrong."

He hesitated as Bart was wheeled away, half tempted to go and work in the surgery himself. He cleared his head of the motion immediately; using Batman's words, he was too "emotionally compromised" to go to work like that. He'd probably end up doing more harm than good. And somewhere out there, was a traumatized Robin alone in a rooftop with a gun…

"...any other existing medical conditions that you know of, Mr. Flash?"

He shook his head and dragged himself back to the here and now. "I'll have his medical files here as soon as I can," he said. "I'll be in touch." He took a few steps, veered over and grabbed a shock blanket as a second thought, and then headed back to where he came.

Tim was clearly not doing any better.

Wally stopped directly in front of him, blue shock blanket in hand, not sure whether to drape it over the cape or what. "Tim?" he said softly. "You still with me?"

The boy was shaking violently. "I…I shot…I killed him. Oh my god, I killed Bart-"

"No no, it's okay." Wally interrupted quickly. "Bart's fine. You didn't kill him."

"I shot him in the knee," Tim whispered, eyes wide under the mask. Wally placed the blanket over Tim's shoulders and held it in place with his hands. "I…I shot him…"

"I don't blame you."

"I…I wanted to kill him," Tim whispered. "I…he said to, and I was tempted, because of him my Dad's dead…"

"Tim…" he whispered back.

"If he hadn't let all the Rogues out of jail…"

Wally closed his eyes, grip tightening slightly on the boy's shoulders. "I am so sorry, Tim." Worst cousin ever. All his fault. "Where's your communicator? We need to call Batman."

Tim shook his head. "Important meeting. He won't be able to leave. I made sure…so we could get to Bart now…"

Smart. Too smart, for his own good. "Nightwing, then."

Tim shook his head again. "Dick won't be on duty."

"But he'll come," Wally said. Of course he would. He's Dick Grayson, and Wally knew Dick Grayson just as good as anybody.

Reluctantly, Tim pulled something like an R-shaped walkie talkie out of his belt. He held it up to him mouth, but then stopped. "Dick…he'll be mad…"

"No, he won't."

"He will…"

Frustrated, Wally snatched the communicator out of Tim's hand. He looked at the complicated amount of unlabeled buttons, and then just pressed the one Tim's first finger had been on. The walkie talkie let out a sound suspiciously like a telephone dialing for a few seconds, when a voice answered, "Hey, Tim. What's up?"

From his tone of voice, Dick had probably just answered his cell phone somewhere in public. "Dick, it's me, Wally."

He could picture Dick leaping up and away from whatever he was doing. "Wally? What's going on? Where's Tim?"

"Tim's with me. He's fine." He glanced down at the Robin. "He could just use a little help, that's all. Could you get yourself to San Francisco as fast as possible?"

His vague answered were probably driving Dick crazy. "As in, should _I_ get myself to San Francisco as fast as possible?"

Wally heard the question within the question. "Actually, maybe I should call someone else. It would be weird if Dick Grayson showed up here."

"Gotcha. Be there as soon as I can."

Wally took his finger off the button, and glanced down at Tim. "Dick's going to be here soon, okay? Sit down."

Tim looked pale. "But…" he said hoarsely, then wet his lips and tried again. "The Titans."

"The what?" Wally asked.

"The Titans. The Teen Titans." He glanced down at himself. "Our new team."

"Oh," Wally said, glancing over Tim as well. "And here I thought you were borrowing one of Dick's costumes because you outgrew all yours. That's cool." His halfhearted attempt at humor went unnoticed. "Look, you stay here, and I'll go look for them. Okay?"

Tim didn't respond.

"Okay," Wally answered himself, pushing down on Tim's shoulder until he sat. "You just stay here. Either Dick or I will be here for you."

Speedy was in the same hospital as Bart. He was unconscious with a concussion, but otherwise he would be okay. Beast Boy and Wonder Girl were retrieving Cyborg for the bottom of the bay. Cyborg would need a reboot, and the other two were a little freaked out, but they would be fine as well. In fact, Wonder Girl demanded to know what was going on so she could get back in the fight. Wally told the three of them they better get out of here or else the Justice League would round them up. Unhappily, they left – Wally wasn't sure where to, but they should be able to handle themselves.

Nightwing showed up for Robin. Wally asked him to fax whatever Batfiles that were appropriate to San Francisco General Hospital on behalf of Bart. Nightwing agreed.

"And, Flash."

Wally stopped his pacing on the top of the rooftop they were on. There were still stains of Bart's blood beneath his feet. "Yeah?"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Sure, yeah. I'll be fine."

Nightwing sighed, looking from Robin huddled under one arm, back to him. "You don't look like it," he said. "Look. I'll call you. Take care of yourself till then. Think you can handle that?"

"Yes, Mother Duck," Wally shot back. He waved a hand in their general direction. "You can go now."

Dick huffed in annoyance at the response, but leapt off the building anyways. Wally ran down the opposite side, heading directly for the hospital where his feet reached horizontal ground again. The best he could do was wait.

Bart had already been diagnosed in the ER and was shipped off somewhere for surgery, so Flash was directed to some generally lobby. The waiting room was no less than torture. Of course, as the saying went, doctors were the worst patients. The worst part was that people kept staring at him. Of course they would, he was the Flash for goodness sake, but that doesn't mean that the stares weren't getting on his nerves, because usually when he was upset people staring at him meant they were trying to kill him, and he was twenty five years old, he shouldn't be freaking out like this. How long had he been a hero? Forever?

"You should stop freaking out. It's not going to make the wait any faster."

Wally glanced up. "Nice to see you too, Red."

"Yeah. It's been a while," Red Arrow agreed, inviting himself to the chair next to Wally.

"Sure," a third voice grumbled. Wally glanced up to see Speedy, the hat replaced with a bandage around his head. "Leave the guy with the concussion standing. That's cool."

Roy smirked. "If I give you five bucks, will you go entertain yourself with the vending machine?"

Speedy frowned. "I'm going home." He turned and started walking out of the hospital lobby.

"Try not to get yourself thrown off any buildings on the way there!" Roy called after him. Speedy didn't respond. "That kid scares the shit out of me sometimes," he said to Wally.

"Great job you do showing it," Wally inserted sarcastically. "Swearing at him all the time makes you really cool."

Roy shrugged. "Hey. I give it to him straight, and he can handle himself."

"Hm,"

"You okay?"

Wally shrugged. "I don't know."

"Come on."

"I don't know," Wally repeated. "I mean, to use your words, I just had the bejeezes scared out of me by the kid."

"Shit, Flash. Shit."

"The Flash doesn't swear," Wally objected.

Red Arrow rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Alright, the feeling sucks, but it'll get better. Probably."

"You're so comforting."

"Yeah, this whole thing isn't my strong point. I like shooting people." Red Arrow stretched out his arms in front of him. "But I'm better than nothing, right?"

Wally shot his a dubious look.

"You get really sarcastic when you're upset," Roy commented.

"I didn't say anything."

"But you were thinking it," Roy added, shooting him a smile. He waited for a few moments, but Flash didn't respond. "Man. This is really bothering you."

Wally jumped to his feet. "People are dead, Red!"

"Whoa." Roy raised his hands in the air in the backing off gesture. "Not your fault."

"Yes, it was." Wally slumped down a collapsed back into his seat. "I should have stopped it."

"You did everything you could," Roy reassured him.

"You weren't even there."

"But I know you," he said. "And you're a try-er. You try hard."

Wally sighed and shook his head. "I shouldn't have gotten to the point that I was 'emotionally compromised.' I shouldn't have let him threaten me. I shouldn't even have let Bart go out without making sure he was demon-safe. What kind of hero am I, Red? Huh? I can't even save my own cousin-"

There was a loud yell, and a crash, and some shouting that was audible even from their position in the waiting room. Wally knew it was Bart instinctively and was on his feet and speed down the hall within the second. He burst through the door of Bart's operating room to find all the personnel off their feet and Bart unhesitatingly starting to thrust something sharp towards his own neck.

He didn't take any chances, rushing forward to catch Bart's hand and throw the hemostat he was holding onto the floor. Bart floundered for a second in Wally's grip, jerking himself away, eyes squeezing shut and his breath coming out in sobs. Wally didn't know where the helmet was, and he didn't particularly care at the moment, because all he could do was gather Bart up and pull him close to his chest and rock him back and forth and try to express all the things he was incapable of putting into words at the moment. Things like _Are you okay _and _Don't you ever think about doing anything like that again _and _I am so, so sorry I let anything happen to you _and desperately trying to avoid the implications word _suicide._

Bart was just in a hospital gown, so his knee was visible. Wally glanced down at it. There was a large, thick red line going across it, but otherwise the super healing seemed to be kicking in. He glanced around to the hospital staff (one surgeon unconscious, the other and all the nurses staring at him). "How is he?"

The doctor started to talk very fast. "He should receive more treatment, probably needs to be restrained, he's different from anything I've ever encountered before-"

"Will his knee heal?" Wally interrupted. Bart started sobbing harder against his chest, and he gripped the boy tighter.

The doctor hesitated. "As far as I can tell-"

Wally scooped Bart up and got the hell out of there.

* * *

><p>Wally was being stupid. And irrational, and selfish. Bart probably needed medical attention. He probably needed to see mental specialists or the Garricks or Iris or his friends, not the cousin that liked to pretend Bart didn't exist.<p>

God, he was an awful person.

He had no right to hug Bart to his chest and hold him as he cried. He should get somebody better…who wasn't stupid, irrational and selfish…

Wally had gone back to the first place he thought of, his own apartment, and just collapsed on the couch. Bart had been sobbing into his chest for a little while now.

He continued to be an awful person and held Bart while he cried.

* * *

><p>AN: More coming next week. Review, please and thank you.


	12. Step 8E

A/N: Hey, everybody! Sorry about disappearing off the face of the planet for two weeks. Computer issues, you know. Anyway, this is the last installment of Step 8, which means the end is quickly approaching. Thanks, all of you!

I do not own _Young Justice _or any other _DC _characters.

Please review!

* * *

><p>"He fell asleep."<p>

"That's good. He probably needs the rest. Has he eaten anything recently?"

Wally looked guiltily at Bart. "I don't think so, Dick."

"Well, make sure you take care of that. You were always worse when you were hungry."

"I distinctly remember being always hungry."

"That explains a lot, then." Dick chuckled.

"Least I was over four feet tall," Wally halfheartedly jabbed back, poking at the fact that Dick hadn't hit his real growth spurt until he was in college. He'd expected the conversation to go a lot less smoothly than this. They'd barely spoken to each other for years, after all. Now, it was like Dick had never left his side.

Except, you know, the fact that he was talking to Dick on his cell phone, and Dick was in Bludhaven or Gotham or who-knows-where. Not his problem right now. The problem was the 15 year old speedster crashed on his couch.

"Wally?"

"Yep?"

Dick paused. "What's your plan? For Bart?"

Wally shrugged, even though no one could see him. "I don't know. Make sure he doesn't commit suicide. Dick, I don't think I've ever felt so this way in my life. I mean, I've seen people with screwed up lives. But…I've never completely caused one of them."

Dick didn't reassure him. Didn't try to tell him things were okay, he did his best. Dick said nothing.

"What am I going to tell him when he wakes up?" Wally asked. "He obviously remembers."

"He probably thinks everything that happened was his fault," Dick responded. "You have to convince him otherwise."

"It's not his fault."

"I know," Dick said. "Trust me, I know."

Wally waited for a few seconds. "So, how's Tim?"

"Sleeping," Dick answered. "He's had a tough time, too. We're going to adopt him right away."

Wally blinked. "Wayne adoption?"

"After all he's done for us, it's the least we can do. Yeah."

He could see the jokes coming from a mile away. A little sarcasm ,a _Do we really want him to turn out like you? I don't think the world can handle any more Dick Graysons. _They were on the tip of his tongue, really. Dick had practically set himself up.

He wasn't in the mood.

"That's good," he said. "Tim deserves the best."

Dick seemed surprised by the answer. "Um-yeah. Yeah, we thought so to." A pause. "Look, Wally are you sure everything's okay? Do you want me to come over?"

"No," he answered firmly.

"Alright, not me. I could send somebody else-"

"I need to apologize to Bart first. I need to make sure he's alright."

"He's not yours, Wally."

Wally glared moodily at the wall. "He should have been."

"What?"

"He should have been," Wally repeated. "I mean, who else is there? Really?"

"Wally, you were going through school when he showed up. Now you've got your M.D, but you're still going through training and registration and crap, right?"

"I'm the Flash."

"You're only human."

"I'm the _Flash," _Wally repeated. "And taking care of wayward speedsters in one of my responsibilities, and I screwed it up, Dick."

"Is Tim okay?"

Wally jumped to his feet and rushed over to where Bart was blinking awake. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and his voice was rough. "Yeah," Wally answered. "Tim's fine. He's at home, resting."

Bart nodded, "That's good." He closed his eyes and nestled his head back into the pillow Wally had supplied.

Wally absentmindedly fixed the blanket as well, and brushed the hair out of Bart's face. "Your other friends are alright too. I think you were the only one with serious injuries this time round."

Bart's eyes snapped open. He brushed Wally's hand away and sat up. "Well?" he asked impatiently. "Aren't you going to ask if its me or not?"

Wally retracted his hands. "Fine. Is that you, Bart?"

Bart glanced down at the floor. "Yes," he answered, shifting so that he was sitting cross-legged on the couch. "Yes, it's me. Klarion's back in the helmet with Doctor Fate. He traded places with Mr. Nelson."

"Oh," Wally said. "I was wondering." He sat down in some of the space on the couch that Bart had vacated. "Look, Bart, I need to talk to you."

Bart put his elbows on his knees and folded his hands. "I'm a murderer."

"It's my fault that – what?"

"I killed people," Bart whispered. He clenched his eyes shut. Wally was afraid he would start crying again, but when the eyes opened again they were dry. He'd probably run out of tears.

"It's not your fault, Bart. You weren't in control of your actions."

"That's what drunk people try to say when they've run somebody over with their car," Bart countered. "They're still murderers. That they were drunk might make it worse."

"You weren't drunk, though," Wally said. "You weren't in control of not being in control of your actions.'

"That doesn't even make sense."

"And you're a minor," Wally added. "Minors-"

"But I was a hero," Bart interrupted, and that means I had more responsibility."

"Being a minor," Wally continued, "Means that it is not your responsibility."

Bart threw him a sharp look. "Yes, it is."

"No, it's not. Acting as Impulse-"

"Inertia-"

"You were a minor, and that means that you are _my _responsibility-"

"Wally, you've never wanted anything to do with me."

"And everything you may or may not be responsible for falls to me."

"Let's see how many times you can say responsibility in one sentence," Bart said mockingly. "It'll definitely help the situation."

"Bart-"

"No, no, no," he said, turning his head and raising his eyebrows at Wally. "It's my turn. When I first met you, the only thing I really wanted was to be your responsibility. I would have run miles – I would have _walked_ miles at a snail's pace to hear those words that you just said. To be your responsibility. But you said 'No, Bart. You're too impulsive, Bart. I don't want a sidekick Bart, and if I did, it wouldn't be you. I don't want the _responsibility, _Bart."

"That's not what I-"

"But that's how it came out," Bart interrupted. "So I tried to shrug it off and I became Impulse. And I had Jay to help me learn what a hero was. I did my best, and later I had Tim, and Con, and then I had Young Justice, the covert ops team of the Justice League themselves. So I ran and I trained and I ignored the fact that nothing got your attention except when you were mad, and I ignored that the Justice League people kept commenting to each other about how I reminded them of you, and I ignored the fact that I had waited for years for you to say one kind word to me but you never showed up."

Bart shifted his gaze, away from Wally and back down to the floor again. "And for years I ignored that you could have shown up any time and offered to take me with you, and I would have dropped everything and said yes. But you never came, except to yell. So I ignored the fact that probably the closest link I would ever get to my Grandpa hated me, and I decided I didn't need you either."

"And now, after years of being the biggest jerk the Justice League has ever known, and you expect me to just _forget _the worst thing that's ever happened to me and let you take care of it? Do you think I'm stupid, Wally? When have you ever taken care of me before?"

Wally swallowed. "I haven't," he said softly, "And I'm sorry."

"Good," Bart scoffed, "You should be."

"But I want to change that."

"You can't change this past."

"I didn't know you felt that way!"

"Well, of course I did, Wally!" he screamed. "And you would have, too, if you ever just stopped to think about it!"

"Bart," Wally said. He leaned over and placed one hand on Bart's shoulder. "I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose the closest link I have to Uncle Barry, either."

Bart closed his eyes, and an unreadable expression flashed across his face. "Too late," he said bitterly. Then he was gone.

* * *

><p>Wally, paranoid jerk that he was, first rushed over to San Francisco to find the helmet to make sure Bart hadn't done something stupid like put it back on, but Bart hadn't been there, so he just picked up the helmet and signed something that allowed all bills to go to the Justice League (he'd almost signed <em>Wally West, <em>but honestly his signature was so bad they probably wouldn't even have been able to tell). His second stop was then the Watchtower, so he ran straight to DC to beam up from there to see if their sensors might have caught anything.

They hadn't. The only trail of superspeed had gone from Kansas to DC as well, so he logged off the monitor just in time to face a bunch of angry teammates looking for an explanation.

"Wally."

"Batman! Hey! Looking good. Just ran into Nightwing recently, you talked to him? He's also looking good. Oh, this? The Helmet of Fate? Yeah, I'm just here to return it. No, really, problem solved. Just ask Robin. Or maybe not. I also ran into him…"

* * *

><p>"Hello?"<p>

"Justice Solacetino?" Bart asked, cradling his cell phone. "I'd really like to talk to you."

"Who is this?" the woman asked. "How did you get this number?" From his position sitting at the kitchen table, he could hear the front door being unlocked.

"You did a favor for a friend of mine, once," Bart explained, heart pumping quicker than usual. He hadn't really thought this through, really, and in light of recent events, this probably wasn't the best idea. "Wonder Girl? She highly recommends you."

The front door opened. The woman seemed a little more relaxed, now that he had a sort of explanation. "Oh. So you're one of her caped friends." He could hear her both through the phone and through the house.

"Um, yeah. Minus the cape. Capes aren't really good for running."

There was a scream, and the clicking of heels as she came running towards him. Sighing, Bart put the cell phone down on the table and was raising his hands in the air when the woman entered the kitchen, armed with a bottle of pepper spray. "Please," Bart said tiredly. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just need some advice."

The woman was holding her bottle as if it were a gun – of course, neither of them would affect him if he wanted to avoid it. "Drop the blanket," she ordered, referring to the blanket from Wally's place that he still had wrapped around him. "And how did you get in here?"

Bart did as she asked, even though he was cold in just a hospital gown. "I vibrated through the wall," he admitted. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, I'll knock next time," he said.

She took a good look at him – a scrawny teenager in a hospital gown sitting quietly in a kitchen chair – and lowered the pepper spray. "Yes," she agreed. "You should do that. You know who I am-"

"Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States Jadyn Solacetino," Bart supplied automatically, "Fifth female justice and second Hispanic…" he trailed off, shooting a sheepish look at the judge. "Sorry."

"You've done your research," she surmised.

"Photographic memory," he said.

"Ah," she answered. "Who are you?"

Bart winced. "Um...if I promise I'm not evil, will you promise not to panic?" In response, she sent him a hard stare. "Alright, alright. I…I used to go by Impulse…"

She gasped in surprise, and he rambled on quickly before she would try to shoot him with pepper spray "-but I'm not Inertia Idon''thurtme?"

She paused, bottle of pepper spray half raised. "Don't hurt you?" she asked. Bart couldn't tell if there were sarcasm in her voice or not.

"I was possessed at the time," he repeated, slower. And then, in a rush again, "Flash said I wasn't in control of not being in control of my actions, but I don't really know what that means, and I can still remember everything that I did but I didn't want to but I still did it and now I need you to decided whether I'm guilty or not."

Unlike most of the people he dealt with, she seemed to understand him. Of course she would, she was a Supreme Court Justice and she was super smart, like Robin, except less distracted all the time. That was good. He should talk to smart people more often. "You want me to give you a verdict?" she asked calmly.

Bart nodded. "Yes, please. You see, I thought a lot about how to judge what's right and what's wrong, and obviously Ican't judge myself, and the Justice League is kind of self-appointed so they can't be it, either, I mean, they are good people, but what if they just happen to be good people? So anyways, I thought that Supreme Court Justices have been appointed by lots of people a lot of times, so obviously a bunch of people think that you can do the job, so…" he trailed off.

Supreme Justice Solacetino gave Bart a long look, sighed, muttered "I can't believe this," under her breath, and sat down in a chair opposite from Bart.

Bart perked up immediately, whisking his blanket off the floor and wrapping it around himself again. "Don't worry. I can be the defense and the prosecution at once if you want me to. I'm really fast."


	13. Step 9

A/N: Finally onto the next step. Thanks for reading, all! I kind of threw Lindad Park in here, who was Wally's wife in the comics, for lack of a better substitute. Somehow, I can't see Artemis/Wally working out long term, but that might just be me. If you have any thoughts, feel free to share.

As always, I don't own _YJ _or any other _DC _characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Propose<strong>

Wally decided to take some time off from being the Flash. He had other things to take care of, right? He'd called Aunt Iris and talked to her for a bit, until Bart apparently had gone home and Wally had been hastily hung up on. Bart, who must have been in DC too, right under his nose-

Whatever. Bart was fine now. Bart was safe, and he could get his life back in order.

He lasted all of six hours before throwing on the suit and running out to punch some bad guys.

Or maybe just run. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.

He lasted all of a week before he managed to get himself into something over his head. It was just a terrorist bombing, and sure, it was kind of complicated because he didn't speak Middle Eastern, and _maybe _there had been three bombs instead of one, and there was a bit of property damage, but nobody had gotten hurt (as far as he could tell). Sure, he couldn't see straight at the moment, and that was a bit disturbing, but having a bomb blow up in his own face was better than having it blow up in anyone else's.

Wally ran through a list of people he could go to for help. JLA – Yeah, right. Iris – no, not anyone in his family, they had Bart to take care of. Dick – he couldn't deal with Dick right now. Linda – no, he hadn't talked to her for a month, before the whole Inertia fiasco. Besides, she was just a civilian. She didn't know anything. And she would be mad that her boyfriend hadn't spoken to her for a month.

And-

Um-

Damn it. He couldn't think of anyone else.

Was that red his blood?

His feet were moving before he had time to think about it. Running was deeper than instinct in him now, and if it was a question of Linda or the JLA or…the other people, whoever they may be…well, there was no contest. He ran through a local Boy Scout campsite on the way back to Keystone to grab a first aid kit, because he was a doctor and he knew that he would need a first aid kit.

_KnockKnockKnock. _"Linda?"

Pause. A horrifically long pause in which Wally's head pounded and he felt like he was going to keel over. "Whhoo iiiss iittt?" she finally answered, the words going by incredibly slow.

"Wally," he answered impatiently. After another moment, she opened the door and he sped inside.

"Waalllllyyy, wwhhaaaaat-"

He zipped into the bathroom before she could finish and promptly threw up in her toilet. Concussion, he diagnosed himself. He stood up and tried to remove the cowl off of his head. He winced at the attempt – some of the blood had dried, he had to force to cowl off quickly like a band-aid.

"Wally?"

He turned toward the door, managing not to stumble. Linda wasn't looking so good herself. He glanced down at himself, re-noticing his uniform. "I'm the Flash," he blurted out. "I kinda…have you heard about that bombing near..." Where was it again?

"Wally?" she repeated, her voice rising in pitch.

When he took a step towards her, he actually did stumble this time, only just managing to catch himself on the bathroom wall. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he slid down the wall to sit down on the floor, where falling was a bit less of an option. He gestured to the sink, where he had left the first aid kit. "There's some stuff in there," he said faintly. He still was feeling pretty woozy, so he stuck his head in between his knees to increase blood flow.

The unconsciousness wasn't particularly welcoming or scary – it just was.

* * *

><p>He woke up to the feel of cool fingertips caressing his cheek. Keeping his eyes closed, Wally smiled and leaned into the touch, trying to find the best balance between that and the pillow.<p>

"Your face…" he heard Linda murmur.

"Gorgeous," he replied, referring both to her and jokingly to himself.

He felt a finger wander across his cheekbone and the down the side of his face. "I know," she answered. "I can't believe it's all completely gone."

That was a strange deviation from their usual morning talk. Wally opened his eyes to find Linda still fully clothed, sitting on the side of the bed. He glanced stupidly from her to the window to the clock on the bedside. It was definitely morning. Wally sat up and studied Linda some more. Hair pulled back sloppily, looking really tired, a smudge of blood on her sleeve –

Blood.

His blood?

Memories of lurching into her apartment yesterday came flooding back. He jumped out of bed in a panic, trying to locate his Flash stuff. It wasn't far – it was actually hanging from a hook in her closet. He snatched it up and tried to hide it behind himself.

"Wally!"

He turned around guiltily. He must look ridiculous – a grown man in his underwear, trying to hide a bright red super suit behind him. A thousand different scenarios raced by in his brain. He should just run and pretend this never happened. He should just put down the Flash suit and pretend last night never happened. He should say this was a mistake. He should try to explain. He should talk to Manhunter and wipe her memory. He should apologize for keeping this from her. He should definitely just run away.

"What?" he asked, his mouth seemingly acting of its own accord.

Linda stood up from the bed. She cautiously took a few steps closer to Wally, staring fiercely into his eyes as if she could find all the answers there. "Mile a minute," she said. "You actually think like that, don't you?"

Wally stared back down at her. "Faster," he said truthfully.

"You're the Flash," she said.

"Yes," Wally answered, and then paused. "You're taking this a lot better than I thought you would."

"I've had all night to think it over," she answered.

Impulsively, Wally leaned down to kiss her on the lips. He was slightly disappointed as she pulled away, although he could have guessed her reaction. "Wally!" she exclaimed, tone reprimanding. "Is that it?"

He frowned. "Do I need anything else?"

"I – you're the Flash. How-"

"Lightning charged chemical experiment gone wrong when I was eleven," he answered. He kissed her again, quickly this time. "In case you're wondering, yes, I was Kid Flash."

She still needed an explanation. "I – all those times I talked to the Flash, while I was reporting. That was _you?"_

"Yes," Wally answered, doing his best not to sound impatient.

"You, you just throw on a red suit and go – wow. Wow," she said, gesturing to the Flash suit Wally was still weakly holding onto behind him. "You actually…wow. That's where you've been all this time, isn't it? You just run off for a month…and you're actually running."

"Are you mad?" he asked.

Linda looked up at him. "I should be," she announced. "I should be furious."

Wally smiled, pleased. "But you're not," he said. He reached out to grab Linda's hand. "Linda Park, I am the Flash."

"So I noticed," she commented dryly, eyes roving up and down Wally's mostly naked figure. "I should have wondered where these muscles come from."

Wally chuckled, drew her closer. "I'm sorry for dumping myself here yesterday," he said. "It's just, after the whole Inertia thing, I really don't have much to turn to anymore."

She pulled back again. "Inertia thing," she repeated. "That's why I haven't seen you."

"Yeah," Wally said shortly. He had the feeling this morning wasn't going to end the way he hoped it would, which was a bummer. "He's fine now. I don't really want to talk about it."

"He's fine…?" Linda repeated.

"Impulse. Inertia," Wally continued, sighing. Linda still looked puzzled so he added, "Bart?"

"Bart," she repeated, and then the name seemed to register in her memory. "Oh, my god. Bart, _your cousin?"_

"Yes?" he answered, cringing.

"Your cousin is an evil maniac-"

"Whoa," he interrupted, reaching out, grabbing her by her wrist. He dropped to Flash suit behind him and led them both to sit on the bed. "Bart's not evil," he said. He should feel weary, explaining the situation for about the thousandth time, but he wasn't. He owed it to Bart. "He was just possessed by an evil spirit of chaos. I managed to rescue him, eventually, but…you heard. A lot of the damage was already done. It's not Bart's fault. If anything, it's Klarion's. Or mine. Bart's keeping his head down so he can recover. Hopefully, he'll be able to keep out of the business for a while. A long while."

He had the feeling that she wasn't really following, but that was okay. He knew it was a lot to take in.

"Go talk to him."

Or maybe not. "Excuse me?" he managed.

"Go talk to him," she repeated. "You like to avoid things, Wally."

"Linda," he huffed. "I'm the Flash. I can handle things myself. If I was avoiding things, it was because maybe I was trying to hide the whole secret identity thing from you."

"But you told me," she said. She reached forward and hugged him, and Wally slowly returned the embrace.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Because you trust me."

Wally looked down at her, searching for her eyes. "Yes," he said.

"So it wasn't just some last-minute resort mistake?"

He grimaced. "Planning ahead is not my strong point," he admitted. "But Linda, honestly, I think you're the only civilian not related to me who knows, and I want to say that's because you're the only one who has earned it. You are an amazing woman, Linda, and I-"

"You talk too much," she interrupted. Wally sighed and squeezed her gently. "Wally," she said. "You said you trust me, so trust me on this. I'm worried about your poor little cousin. He's out there, alone and venerable, with no other hero to help him out."

He eyed her suspiciously. "There's not way you could possibly know what. For all you know, he couldn't be chilling in the Batcave right now."

She shrugged. "Even if I didn't, you just confirmed it," she said. "Please, listen to me. Just go talk to him."

Why, he thought, is everything always all about Bart?

_Why am I such a selfish bastard?_

Wally plastered a smile on his face, and as quickly as he dared, changed into his Flash uniform. There was still soot and debris stains on it from yesterday when he'd come in, so he stopped right in front of, but not touching Linda. "Alright," he agreed thickly, watching the amazed expression dawn across her face. He kissed her on top of her head, and then finally drew up his cowl over his head. "Don't worry," he reassured her. "I'll change into a new suit."

She looked up at him. She laughed, and said, "Well, Fastest Man Alive, what are you waiting for?"

He smiled back. "I love you," he whispered. Before the words settled in her ears, he was gone.

* * *

><p>The Flash zipped up into an apartment a little ways away from Linda Park's, faster than any eye or any but the best security cameras could catch. A few seconds later emerged Wally West, dressed in jeans and a neutrally green hoodie. A few seconds after that, Wally West was in Central City, strolling up the sidewalk of Settlers Avenue, a small street on the outskirts of town were Jay, Joan, Iris, and Bart lived.<p>

He thought he would have to go in and knock, which would have been a whole five minutes of explaining himself that he really didn't want to go through, but to his surprise, Bart was sitting on the front porch, on one of those bench-swings all old houses have.

Bart was dressed in an outfit similar to Wally's, ironically enough. He was still, as still as Wally had ever seen him, staring broodingly at the sad little bit of lawn growing in front of him. He didn't acknowledge his cousin, even as Wally stopped and stood next to the swing. "Hey," Wally said awkwardly. "Um…can I join you?"

Bart shrugged, but moved over to the far side of the bench, where he recrossed his arms and legs. "Thanks," Wally said, taking what he could get, and sitting down in the spot made available. He let one hand rest on the arm of the chair, and another drum patterns on his lap. Bart still didn't move. "So…hey," he tried again, just ask uncomfortably.

"Hey," Bart grunted back. Wally decided Bart wasn't going to be much help in the conversation department today, so he continued on.

"Look," he started. "I don't think I really got my point across the other day-'

"Oh no," Bart interrupted. "You did." Wally glanced at him, and as if sensing his eyes, Bart looked back, and then continued. "I know what you're waiting for. No, wait, that didn't come out right." Bart closed his eyes for a moment, a pained expression on his face. "I…forgive you."

The eyes reopened, the saddest, still most trusting, still most innocent eyes in the world, and Wally remembered the first time they'd met and being blown away by those big yellow eyes. "You never wanted any of this to happen," Bart said, looking away into the yawn again, except Wally could tell it wasn't really the grass he was seeing at all. "You never wanted me or anyone else to get hurt. It wasn't your fault, Wally. I know you would change what happened if you could."

Wally bit his lip, almost foolishly hoping that the pain from his mouth would detract from the ache of his heart. Bart thought, that after everything, the only reason he would change was to stop the events of the last month. That if that hadn't happened, then he would still be Impulse and Flash would still be ignoring him.

It hurt more that it was true.

No. No, it wasn't. If Wally would go back in time, even if Klarion didn't exist anymore, he still wouldn't want Bart to grow up alone. He wouldn't wish that on anyone, let alone his own cousin.

And after growing up with Superboy and seeing the hurt he went through – God. How could he be so selfish? He was a miserable excuse for a human being, and a miserable excuse for the Flash.

What would Uncle Barry do?

Hug. Try to make it all go away. Try to make him pretend it never happened, hide him away from the Super world, let him be a normal boy.

For better or worse, he wasn't Uncle Barry.

"Kid Flash," he blurted out.

Bart glanced sharply at him, expressions (namely surprise and confusion) dancing across his face. "What? No," he said, frowning.

Wally knelt down in front of Bart, hands clasped in front of him. "Be my Kid Flash," he repeated.

"No," Bart said again, face darkening. "No way. Not in a million years. I told you, I'm done. Done with the hero thing, and done waiting for you."

"You need it," Wally argued. "You couldn't stand just sitting at home all day."

"You couldn't stand working with me all day,' Bart retorted.

"The Titans would be delighted to have you, whenever you're free," Wally retorted. "Trust me. They've sent me invitations for you."

"All the civilians will be scared of me."

"They won't know it's you," Wally argued. "Besides, you'll be with me. If the Flash vouches for you, you'll be fine."

"What if I don't want to be in your shadow all day?" Bart challenged.

Wally tilted his head. "You won't."

"Of course I won't," Bart said. "You'll be in mine." He smirks to himself at the joke.

Wally smiles blindingly, even it wasn't even particularly funny, because Bart had made a joke. If Bart could make a joke about this, than anything could happen. "Don't get ahead of yourself, kiddo," he came back with. "You've still got a long ways to go."

"Oh, yeah?" Bart said, stretching out his limps. Wally took this as a good sign and returned to his seat on the bench-swing. "What would you have to teach me?"

Even though Bart's encouragement was probably a subconscious thing, Wally felt cheered by it anyways. On some level, Bart still wanted to be Kid Flash. His dream wouldn't be crushed that easily, and Wally would take any advantage he would get. "Well, I'd teach you some nice tips about stopping and turning," he said easily.

"Jay already told me," Bart dismissed.

"Yeah, but he can't demonstrate them," Wally said, smiling down at Bart. "Plus, I bet he couldn't tell you how to avoid an angry Robin."

He was actually awarded a laugh at that comment. "That's possible?" Bart asked.

"I've had lots of practice," he admitted, smiling cheekily. They laughed together, and hopefully, Wally thought, _we could be a really good team. _

"So," he said, "what do you say?"

Bart's smile faded, and he looked away from Wally. "I don't know," he said. "I…I know you really want this. But you can't force me, not if I really don't want to."

Wally stared. "You really…don't want to," his voice echoed, flatly.

Bart wasn't looking at him. "Yeah."

A thousand proposals danced on his tongue. _I'll buy you ice cream and tell stories about your Grandpa Barry. I'll teach you so well that you'll be faster than anyone will, faster than me. We'll work so well together-_

He caught sight of Bart's sad, determined face.

_We could have worked so well together. _

"Alright," Wally said softly. He stood up. "Alright, then. But even if you're not Kid Flash, you'll always be family, Bart."

Bart stared down at his feet. "Yes, Wally."

Unsure, but not knowing what else to do, Wally ran away.

* * *

><p>Bart was interrupted from his third after school snack (what? There was nothing else to do) when a high frequency beeping noise came from his backpack. Bart whizzed over to it, plunging his hand into the front and then secret-compartment-front of it. His Young Justice communicator was buzzing wildly, still sending out the rapid beeping emergency pitch. Bart stared at it for a second. Two seconds. They must have really needed him.<p>

But then again, that call went out to every Young Justice member. And sure, there had been…seven of them, but that was plenty of help. Besides, the adults must know. And they should get here.

Weren't the Teen Titans operating independently these ways?

And wouldn't Bart get there fastest, no matter what?

He wasn't a hero anymore.

Bart pictured Tim's, and Con's, and Cassie's faces. He grabbed one of Wally's old Kid Flash uniforms from the attic and was out the door in a second.

Maybe it was just because he was well rested or something, but he didn't remember robots being this difficult. "I think you guys are going soft," he commented to Robin as he rushed by, slamming into one of the robots with his shoulder, which in this uniform was padded, unlike his old one. This one was built for high-speed collisions, not just high speed.

Bart mostly just bounced off the robot with an _oof, _but the robot tipped backward from the force of the impact and toppled onto the floor. He leapt onto the machine the second it touched to floor, vibrating his hand through a panel where a human's neck would be and tearing out a bunch of wiring. Something sparked inside, and for a second Bart thought his hand was stuck, but he pulled it out safely.

Robin was just picking himself up when Bart was at his side again. "You changed your uniform," the speedster observed. "This one's…not green."

Robin stomped on the end of his Bo staff, causing it to come flying upwards, where he caught it easily. "Yeah," he said quietly. The lenses on his mask narrowed. "…Kid Flash."

Bart had the urge to shift from foot to foot nervously, something he fought to suppress. "Hi," he said breathlessly. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. "I'll…just go get-"

He turned to run in the opposite direction, but Robin's hand shot out and grabbed his forearm. "No," Robin said, holding his arm in a light grip. Bart turned around reluctantly to meet his eyes, or at least, the place he knew where his eyes would be. "I'm glad you're here," Robin said seriously.

There was a loud gasp, and Bart was suddenly tackled in a flying hug. "Bart!" Wonder Girl whispered in his ear, squeezing him lightly. Bart buried his face in her shoulder and squeezed her back. "You're back!"

His response was cut off by another loud shout. "Hey! What happened to bros before – um, girls?" Bart looked up to see Speedy glancing apologetically and Wonder Girl before wrenching them apart. Speedy placed both hands on Bart's shoulders and looked him up and down. "Yellow, huh? Rob, come here. Now we can make a traffic light."

Bart tilted his head. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"Yes," Speedy answered, smirking. "It's funny, right?" he turned to Robin and Wonder Girl. "Laugh. I'm funny."

"No," Robin refused flatly, and Wonder Girl giggled.

"Hey! At least we got all the evil robots!" Speedy said, clapping Bart on the shoulder. "All thanks to you."

"We couldn't have done it without you," Wonder Girl added.

Robin nodded. "That was good work."

Bart looked away, searching for a subtle way to change the subject. Probably nonexistent. "Where are the others? Did they get the ones back at base yet?"

Wonder Girl stiffened, and Speedy asked, "What ones back at base?"

Bart gestured in the general direction of the fallen robot. "Well, they all have a T on the back. T for Teen Titans, right?"

Wonder Girl and Speedy both looked at Robin, so Bart did too. "It's…not my fault," Robin objected slowly.

"Of course not," Bart said. "No one was blaming you. These things happen. Everyone has those days when your pet robots suddenly try to destroy you."

Robin nodded seriously, subtly stomping on Speedy's foot to quiet the laughter. "I'm glad you understand. This means your back on the team, right, Kid Flash?"

Bart looked down at his new uniform, as he had forgotten he was wearing it. "Um," he said. "I don't think so."

"What?" Speedy objected quickly. "Why not?" He slung an arm over Bart's shoulders and steered him away from the others. "Bart," he said. "We need you."

Bart looked at Speedy. Then he looked over their shoulders at Robin and Wonder Girl. Then he thought of being Kid Flash, and he thought of his talks with Justice Solacetino, and then he thought of Wally. "I don't want to be Wally's sidekick."

Speedy shrugged. "Then don't."

Bart widened his eyes. "Huh?"

"This isn't difficult, _Kid Flash," _Speedy said loudly, a grin coming over his face. "Just do what you have been doing for years. Help people. Work with us. Grownups aren't allowed in the pictures. _Teen _Titans. Right?" He held up a fist for Bart for pound.

Bart lightly tapped his gloved fist to Speedy's, somehow cementing the deal. "Forever," he answered.

Speedy whooped in happiness. "Rob! Wonder Babe!" he yelled. They were there within the second. "Kid Flash is back!"


	14. Step 10

A/N: Sorry, guys. Posting this last chapter just sort of slipped my mind for a little bit. Anyway, here it is. Hope you enjoy it - please, feel free to tell me what you think.

Step 10: Enjoy

_ "Kid Flash attack!"_

Wally jumped about a foot in the air before he realized that the speedster next to him was, indeed, his Kid Flash. "Kid," he growled in between clenched teeth. "Not. Funny."

Bart snorted. "Sure it was," he retorted lightly, but hunkered down next to Wally hiding behind a rock. "Whatcha watchin'? Military base?"

"You better not have blown my cover," Wally threatened.

"Relax," Bart waved a hand. "Of course I didn't. I'm better than that."

"I distinctly remember you getting kidnapped two days ago by Captain Cold."

"He was in an ice cream truck! How was I supposed to know?"

"Shhh," Wally hissed, grabbing Bart by the elbow and wrenching him lower. "What part of my alternate-dimension self is trying to kill everyone I've ever loved do you not understand?"

"I understand, all right," Bart said. He stretched out all his limbs lazily before laying down on the sandy ground behind the rock. "I think this is hilarious. It's like you're having a seizure."

"I'm sure you'll agree when you're _dead."_

"Calm down," Bart said. "So there's a Walter West running around. You're not that hard to beat."

Wally turned to him. "Bart, I really don't need this right now. You're running around willy-nilly leaving Joan Garrick defenseless and Linda's seven months pregnant and there is _nothing _to eat out here-"

Reflexively, he caught the energy bar before it hit his face. Wally glanced down at the black wrapper with a subtle bat-logo in the middle. "It's for you," Bart told him. "Robin developed them for me. They last a while."

Wally smirked a little as he tore off the wrapper. "That's cute," he said, before stuffing the entire thing in his mouth. Through his euphoria at the sensation of sustenance is his mouth, he heard:

"And I moved Joan and Linda to Titans Tower. My friends are watching out for them, until Rob or someone can contact somebody to have them moved to the Watchtower."

Wally gulped the last of the energy bar down. "Wow," he said, not quite being able to find words. "That's…thank you. That's a relief."

"Support System," Bart quipped, in a way that made Wally feel like he was quoting someone. "Besides," Bart continued, adjusting his goggles, "I can be responsible. How do you think I got this far?"

Wally hummed in agreement. "He should be exiting soon," he whispered. "You take left, I'll go right, circle the perimeter until one of us finds him. Don't be reckless."

"Yes, Mom," Bart sighed, pulling his goggles over his face.

Wally glanced sideways at the young man, now hoisting himself up into a starting position, and felt a small thing that felt like pride wriggling its way around his ribcage. Never in a million years did he ever imagine having such a good KF. Not just good. Fast, funny, independent – Uncle Barry would be proud.

_No time for that now. _

"On the count of three," Wally whispered. "One…two…go."

They were gone in a flash.


End file.
